Into Oblivion
by WeasleyGirl-ca
Summary: In the midst of war, the trio was separated for a month. Ron’s experience during that time makes it hard for him to reconnect with Hermione and when the war finally draws to a close, a devastating turn of events leaves Ron hopelessly lost.
1. Prologue

**Disclaimer: **J.K. Rowling owns all…she is a genius.

**Important Note: **This is a story based on one of the first HP fanfics I wrote, _Destined_. The whole story is hosted on harrypotterfanfiction-dot-com under 'MioneWeasley' and part of it is posted here (but I'll delete it soon). But don't bother reading it. I was young and no good at writing when I wrote that and I've been itching to rewrite it for a long time now. Which brings me to _Into Oblivion_—a remake of sorts, taking HBP into account and hopefully better :D. Follows the trio through the end of the war and into their post-war lives. main-R/Hr, secondary-H/G.

**Into Oblivion**

**_Part 1: Nearing the End_**

**Prologue**

**June, 1998**

Harry Potter stood in the Headmistress's office, stroking Fawkes as she sat peacefully perched on a ledge. To his right sat Hermione, who busied herself by opening up the handsome leather-bound notebook that Ron had given her for her eighteenth birthday.

Hermione had diligently jotted down every piece of information or clue they discovered, and stored every letter they had received through Fawkes, as Harry and his two best friends searched for pieces of the Darkest Wizard's soul.

The book opened to a list that Hermione had penned back in August, one that she updated every time they had successfully destroyed a Horcrux.

_1. Tom Riddle's Diary – **destroyed** June 1993 (Harry)_

_2. Marvolo Gaunt's ring – **destroyed** August 1996 (Pr. Dumbledore)_

_3. Slytherin's locket – **destroyed** November 1997 (Harry, Ron, Hermione)_

_4. Hufflepuff's cup – **destroyed** May 1998 (Harry, Ron, Hermione)_

_5. Nagini (?)_

_6. Unknown_

_7. Voldemort_

Hermione poised her quill beside the name, _Nagini_. She looked at it thoughtfully before bringing the quill down to the parchment. Now the line read:

_5. Nagini (?) – **destroyed **June 1998 (Prof. Snape)_

Harry closed his eyes for a moment. It was true. Nagini was indeed a Horcrux and Snape had killed her only a day before. Snape. Traitorous, slimy, evil Snape had destroyed one of the Horcruxes.

Ron, who was sitting on the other side of Hermione, glanced over at her notebook and made a noise in disagreement.

"Doesn't change anything, he's still a bloody traitor," Ron muttered.

Hermione shot him a disapproving look.

Professor McGonagall, who had been pacing up and down the width of the office as the four of them waited for Remus Lupin to arrive, suddenly spun around and looked down at her former students.

"So, what you're telling me is that Severus helped the three of you escape and killed Nagini. You saw him kill Nagini?"

Hermione nodded.

"And Fawkes, he went to Snape without a moments hesitation?"

"Yes. It was Snape who was sending us anonymous tips about the Horcruxes through Fawkes."

"His information was valid?"

"Yes, we couldn't have found the locket or the cup without his help."

Harry looked away. All the evidence was piling up in Snape's favour and Harry didn't like it. Snape killed Dumbledore.

"How do you suppose that Fawkes's trust in Snape means he's on our side?" interjected Ron. "Fawkes trusted whoever Professor Dumbledore trusted and we all know he was wrong to trust Snape."

"Ron, for heaven sakes, Fawkes is an intelligent bird. He must be aware of the circumstances surrounding Professor Dumbledore's death. He _knows_ that Professor Snape killed Dumbeldore. The fact that he still trusts Professor Snape..." Hermione's voice trailed off as she raised an eyebrow at Ron, daring him to disagree.

Harry rubbed the bruise on the side of his head. Hermione was right. Fwakes was very intelligent.

McGonagall fell into her chair. "So, Severus saved the three of you and killed Nagini. Fawkes trusts him and he's the one who's been sending you information through Fawkes."

The two boys remained still while Hermione nodded.

"Oh, Albus, what have you done?"

"What are you talking about?" asked Ron.

"It's rather blatant what Albus had planned. Oh dear."

"What?"

"Professor Dumbledore ordered Snape to kill him," answered Harry, dully.

"WHAT! That's just mad, Harry."

"No, it isn't," muttered McGonagall. "It's exactly something Albus would do."

"And Snape agreed to it? That's like Harry telling me to kill him. There's no way in hell I'd listen to him," exclaimed Ron.

"Language, Mr. Weasley."

Ron muttered to himself. "Evil git."

"Severus has always been extremely…obedient of Albus. I had assumed it was all an act after he…he…killed Albus, but this makes sense. Albus ordered him to do what he did in order to ensure Severus the highest regard with You Know Who."

Harry was the last person who wanted to admit it, but it was true. All the little events of their sixth year fell into place. The conversation between Dumbledore and Snape that Hagrid had overheard, the way Snape acted on the night Dumbledore died.

Harry felt anger building up in his chest. He didn't know who he was the angriest with, Dumbledore or Snape.

"When I was in the cave with Professor Dumbledore, he made me swear that I would continue with my task even if it was killing him," offered Harry, almost reluctantly.

Ron gave Harry a look of utter disbelief. His expression was almost comical. "Kill him?" he repeated. Harry nodded. Ron didn't seem to believe him. "Harry, you actually believe this bullocks?"

Harry shrugged his shoulders and looked away.

"Fine," said Ron, angrily. "Whatever."

"Have we settled the matter, then?" asked McGonagall, her eyes roaming over the three teenagers.

The three of them nodded.

"The only problem is that Professor Snape's recent activities won't go unoticed by Voldemort," muttered Hermione.

McGonagall closed her eyes nodded. "Oh, Severus."

The room fell silent.

Harry couldn't bring himself to feel any sympathy for Snape. He was mulling over his admittedly heartless thoughts when someone interrupted the silence.

"Harry, Ron, Hermione, I wasn't expecting you three here."

Harry's head snapped up to see his former professor, Remus Lupin, stepping out of the fireplace. His hair was a bit longer, his clothes shabbier and his face was much older. He had dark circles under his eyes and seemed thinner than the last time Harry had seen him.

"But it's a good thing you're here. Minerva, the situation in London is getting worse. We must take action immediately."

McGonagall sighed. "The Minister's health is not improving, then?"

"What's wrong with the Minister?" asked Hermione, alarmed.

Remus looked sadly at Hermione. "The Ministry is trying to keep it under wraps, but I suspect it will be in the papers by tomorrow. Scrimgeour seems to have caught a virus."

"Well, that's not a big deal, is it?" started Ron. "There are potions for most viruses. Besides, the man's a bloody git."

"This isn't like most viruses, Ron," sighed Lupin. "We don't know what it is. We don't have an antidote for it. And the Minister isn't the only one who's fallen ill."

"Who?" asked McGonagall, alarmed.

"A few days ago, the Ministry enlisted in the help of a muggle scientist—the mother of a Ministry official—to investigate the virus. It's nothing she's ever seen before either."

"The Ministry sought help from a muggle?" said Harry, astounded.

"Yes, well, they assumed that it was a muggle virus that never breached the wizardry world until now."

"But it isn't, is it?" said Hermione.

"No, the virus appears to be purely magical in origin. But the muggle scientist, well, she's also ill now."

Hermione gasped.

"She became ill five days after coming in contact with the virus—."

"The healer who tried to treat Scrimgeour showed symptoms five days later," interjected McGonagall.

"Exactly," Lupin agreed, rubbing his tired eyes. "From what I gather, the symptoms appear five days after coming in contact with the virus, and according the muggle scientist, it's airborne."

"Bloody hell," muttered Harry, "we don't need this right now. We're in the middle of a war."

"The thing is, Harry, this is no coincidence. Your father, Ron, had direct contact with the Minister just before he fell ill…"

Ron gripped the side of his chair and his face paled. "Is he…he's not—."

"Not to worry, Ron, he's fine."

Ron shut his eyes, sighing with relief.

"But your father was on a raid in Liverpool. He arrested a man for selling fake protective amulets. Arthur was the only person to come in close contact with the man—he took him to a temporary cell in the Ministry. Five days later, the man fell ill."

Hermione clamped her hand over her mouth.

"The man is a half-blood."

"Merlin's beard," murmured McGonagall.

Harry and Ron looked at each other, confused.

"You see, it appears that the virus only affects non-purebloods, but can be spread by anyone, including purebloods," explained Remus.

"Are you saying…Voldemort is responsible for this?" asked Harry.

"I'm certain he is. And I'd say it's more than airborne. There is dark magic driving the spread of the virus." continued Remus.

"How bad is it?" asked Ron.

"From what I've been told, at first a victim loses the use of his legs, then gradually the use of all his limbs and finally, speech. They are constantly feeling cold and in a great deal of pain."

"Shite," cursed Ron, followed by a "Sorry Professors."

An uncomfortable silence draped the room once more, only to be broken by Ron's frantic thought. "Wait, have _you_ been in contact with the virus?" Ron asked Remus.

Harry hadn't thought of that. He guessed it was reasonable to believe that Hermione and he were at risk.

"No, I've been out of the country for quite some time on Order business. Tonks filled me in over the phone..." replied Remus.

Remus's eyes darkened and Harry knew that he was worried about Tonks, who was in London.

"The fellyphone?" said Ron.

"Yes, it seemed the safest way to have a long discussion."

To avoid spread of the disease, Harry was sure was what Remus meant.

"As I said earlier, it's a good thing you three are here. Harry, you can't go anywhere just now for risk of contracting the disease."

"WHAT!" exclaimed Harry, outraged.

"Tomorrow, the train will leave, taking students home. We can't force them all to stay here in order to protect them," said McGonagall.

"And you can't force me either!"

"Oh, be reasonable and think this through, Harry. What use are you going to be in this war if you are lying in a sickbed?" asked McGonagall.

"And what use will I be sitting around here?"

"Hermione, we need to find a vaccine. You are the best Potions student, and without Severus and Slughorn…well, I'd say your muggle background might be of some help," started McGonagall, changing the subject abruptly.

"You want me to find a vaccine?" asked Hermione in a small, scared voice.

"Yes, we can set you up in the dungeons with whatever books and equipment you might need. You'll have to isolate yourself, no contact with anyone until you've finished. We'll seal the dungeons."

Ron gulped, his face chalk white. "Yes, that way you won't get sick." He glanced at Harry, and Harry knew Ron wanted Harry to go with her to keep him away from the virus.

"There is no way!" hissed Harry.

"No, Harry, you should go with Hermione. You can help her. The faster you discover the vaccine, the sooner you can leave the confines," urged Remus.

"NO!"

"Don't be daft, Potter. I know I do not hold the same respect you had for Albus, but at least we both have good sense. He would have asked the same of you."

"Harry," started Ron.

"Don't you start with me, Ron! You've got nothing to worry about, being a _pureblood _and all, so you can just shut it."

"Harry, that isn't fair," said Hermione, tears pooling at the brim of her eyes.

Ron clenched his jaw but he couldn't hide his worried expression. He slipped his hand over Hermione's hand. She gripped it tightly.

"Harry, it's the only way," whispered Hermione.


	2. A Kiss in the Rain

**Disclaimer: **You know the drill…J.K. Rowling made it, we play with it :D  
To all my lovely reviewers, you make my day :D. Thank you all so much!

**Chapter 1**

**A Kiss in the Rain **

The Potions classroom had never looked so disorganized. The student desks were pushed to the sides. There was a large cauldron situated in the centre of the room, its contents sizzling dangerously. Stacks of large, highly restricted wizardry books leaned against the wall beside the gargoyle and basin.

Harry sat at a desk, reading. His hair was disheveled. His glasses lay haphazardly beside a glass of water. Shifting in his seat, he turned the page and continued searching through the book.

Hermoine was sitting at the Potion Master's desk, on the other side of the room. Her bushy hair was a tangled mess. She had coiled it into a bun at her nape but a few strands had escaped and fell over her face.

Surrounding her were numerous muggle medical and biology textbooks ranging from, '_Uncovering the Secrets of the Virus',_ to '_Preventing Epidemics, One Vaccine at a Time'._

Open in front of her was a binder, filled with muggle scientific documents. Hermione found that with magic, and in particular, the Memory Charm, they could obtain almost anything from the muggle world. At least, that's how she assumed Remus retrieved the materials she'd requested—documents on the engineering of the smallpox vaccine, the influenza vaccines and papers on breakthrough discoveries in viral biology.

Picking up her quill, Hermione jotted some notes and calculations down in her notebook. She gazed at her notebook fondly. She had never before received such a useful gift.

It was a beautiful notebook, leather-bound, with her name engraved on the cover. Not only was it stunning, it was magical. The book instantly indexed anything she wrote in the first few pages of the book, giving her easy access to her notes.

She closed her eyes and ran her finger over the book. She conjured up an image of Ron nervously smiling at her and presenting her with his gift. The amount of thought he had put into her gift touched her deeply. It wasn't a very costly gift and she knew that bothered him. She chuckled softly. When had she ever cared about those sorts of things?

God, she missed him. She missed his beautiful eyes gazing at her. She missed his big hands and his lopsided grin. She missed his freckles and his blazing red hair. She longed to hear his voice and his laugh.

She touched her lips. She missed his lips. They had only kissed once but the memory was seared in her mind. It had been after Bill and Fleur's wedding reception, which was held in the back garden of the Burrow. It had started to rain. Everyone had run inside except Hermione, who had remained in the yard, starring into the starlit sky.

xxx

"Hermione, what are you doing out here? You're soaking wet."

Hermione turned to look at Ron who was standing by the back door. He looked so handsome in his dark blue dress robes.

"What? Do I have dirt on my nose or something?"

Hermione chuckled softly. She was glad that the raindrops running down her face disguised her tears.

Ron stepped into the garden and approached Hermione. "Is something wrong?"

Hermione shook her head, but Ron narrowed his eyes. Hermione knew he didn't believe her. He ran his hand through her hair. Just moments ago, it had been sleek and straight but now it was damp and as soon as it dried, it would return to its usual bushy state.

Hermione blushed, but leaned into the touch.

The tension that had built up between them over the years seemed to dissipate in the intimate moment. They had shared a few such moments before and she relished every one of them. Yet, they never explicitly acknowledged the feelings that they both felt.

She felt his thumb brush against her cheek. "You're crying."

Knowing there was no sense in lying, she nodded and leaned into him, resting her head against his chest. He wrapped his arms around her and held her tightly. Despite the rain, she felt so warm, snuggled within his embrace.

"I think…I think that this may be the last happy day we have for some time," she whispered.

She felt his body tense at her words and she instantly knew he was thinking the same thing.

"Then maybe we shouldn't make it a sad one by thinking about it."

It was a typical response, coming from Ron—ignoring the future—but the more she thought about it, the more it made sense. What was the point in ruining such a lovely day with thoughts of what would lie ahead?

She raised her head to meet his eyes and smiled at him ruefully. "You're right."

Ron gave her an incredulous look. "Did Hermione Granger just say that I, Ron Weasley, am right?"

Hermione closed her eyes and a peaceful smile spread across her face. Ron's ability to lighten up the mood was always refreshing.

Ron's hand was in her hair again. Hermione wondered if Ron realized what he was doing.

"Hermione…"

She looked up at him. His lips had never been so close to her face.

"I…"

Her heart was beating so fast, she was sure Ron could hear it. She couldn't believe this was happening. She had feared that Ron would never pluck up the courage to do it and now that they were so close, she wasn't entirely interested in what he had to say. She was scared that he might get cold feet and turn away.

She lifted herself onto her tiptoes and their lips brushed against each other. Ron leaned further into the kiss and wrapped his arms around her waist. Hermione brought her arms around his neck and lost herself in pure bliss.

"Ron, Hermione, come inside at once before you catch your death," hollered Mrs. Weasley from the house.

Ron jerked away in surprise, his face so red, she could have sworn that his hair was only a shade redder. He ran his hand nervously through his now dripping wet hair, his eyes fixed on a raindrop traveling down a blade of grass.

"Uh…umm, we should probably get inside, then," he murmured.

Hermione nodded, wishing Mrs. Weasley had forgotten about them for a few more minutes…or hours.

"Now look what you've gone and done," exclaimed Mrs. Weasley, looking at Hermione as they entered the living room. "You've gone and ruined your lovely hair and the both of you are beet red. You've only yourselves to blame if you catch a cold."

Hermione nodded absently as she dried her face with the towel Mrs. Weasley handed her. She smiled into the towel, knowing the redness of their faces had nothing to do with the cold rain.

If this was going to be the last happy day she had in a long time, she was glad that it was also her happiest one yet.

xxx

Hermione shook her head. With the three of them tracking down Horcruxes and just barely avoiding death, there hadn't been any time for them to further explore the possibility of a real relationship.

"Concentrate," she muttered to herself, forcing her eyes back onto the muggle documents.

"What about this?" said Harry, holding up a book on herbs and pointing at a picture. "Says here that this is often used to reduce the acidity in most magical potions."

Hermione looked up from her binder. She had delegated Harry the task of finding an herb that would reduce the acidity of the vaccine because in its present state, the vaccine was too acidic for the human body to handle.

"Yes, but it's never used in conjunction with _mandrake_ because of the nasty side effects the combination creates."

"Damn it, Hermione. We've been at this for a month! A MONTH, Hermione. For all we know…" Harry shut his mouth instantly and looked away.

Everyone could already be dead. Hermione didn't want to think about it. She felt tears forming. She held them back and closed her eyes. She knew how hard this was for Harry. He needed to be out there…to be proactive. And in all honesty, Hermione was doing the bulk of the work. It wasn't his fault that this was right up her alley. But she knew it bothered him.

And the isolation was maddening for both of them.

Hermione had spent days pouring over muggle texts and documents, studying exactly how vaccines were made.

Remus had provided her with the all the muggle laboratory equipment she requested. He had also provided her with a sample of the pathogen.

There were so many magical protective barriers around the pathogen to prevent them from coming in contact with it. She only handled it from a distance, with magic.

Using her limited muggle lab skills, piles of books, documents and a lot of magic, she altered the pathogen so that her new strand of the virus was similar enough to the original virus to stimulate an immune response, but not so similar that it would bring on the disease itself.

It had taken so long to achieve that much. First, it was too strong, then it spread too fast…she was always running into problems.

Now that she finally had the strand just right, she had to make it into a potion. She knew the logistics of administering the vaccine the muggle way—by injection, was impossible.

But there were still glitches. The potion was too acidic—Harry was trying to fix that problem. The oral consumption as opposed to injection of the vaccine made the virus too strong—that was what Hermione was working on.

Harry got out of his chair and started pacing the classroom. "We should just use some antacids," muttered Harry under his breath.

"What did you say," exclaimed Hermione, a thought forming in her mind.

"Nothing, forget it."

"No, you said antacids. My God, how could I be so stupid?" Hermoine jumped out of her seat and flung her arms around Harry. "Oh Harry, it's so easy. I've been so intent on thinking of magical herbs, the concept of using a chemical never crossed my mind."

How could she have missed it? After all, hadn't she just spent weeks engineering a vaccine through partially muggle means? The lack of sleep and fresh air was really taking its toil.

"Right," said Harry. "But what chemical?"

"Let me see." She grabbed one of the muggle textbooks on her desk, which was simply labeled, _'Chemisrty'_. She frantically flipped through the pages until she found the entry she was looking for. "Um…does Snape have any aluminium hydroxide?"

Harry ran over to Snape's private store. "Aluminum hydroxide, aluminium hydroxide. Damn, there's none here."

"Calcium carbonate?"

Harry's fingers roamed over the bottles. "Yes! Yes, he has calcium carbonate."

Hermione sighed with relief and wrote in some alterations into the book, before handing it over to Harry.

"Follow those directions to make a diluted solution and add it to the cauldron."

Harry nodded silently, grabbed the book and the bottle of calcium carbonate and moved to a desk laden with beakers, test tubes, a small cauldron and other equipment.

Hours passed, and Hermione was still pouring over books—she had now moved from muggle ones to wizardry ones. It was well past midnight.

Harry had completed and added the solution of calcium carbonate a couple of hours ago and had gone to bed, unable to sit about and watch Hermione think. Harry had slept on the couch in the Potion Master's private chambers while Hermione took the bed for the last month.

Hermione gasped as a thought occurred to her. She jumped up, grabbing a few ingredients from Snape's private stores. Her heart beat uncertainly as she measured out the appropriate amounts and added it to the cauldron.

She held her breath. The previously dark mixture turned clear. "I think I've done it," she whispered to herself. If she had done everything properly, the potion was now drinkable…the virus not too strong to cause ill effect if taken orally.

Her mind raced with what to do next. She had to take the potion. She had to leave the dungeon and expose herself to the virus. She had to see if it worked.

She closed her eyes, deep in thought. If she told Harry, he would insist that he take the potion and come with her. But what if the potion didn't work? What if he got ill? What would they do?

No, she wouldn't risk Harry. Risking herself was one thing, but risking Harry was out of the question. The wizardry world, in all its unfairness, depended on Harry for its survival.

There was only one thing to do. Take the potion, leave the dungeon and lock Harry inside. After five days—the number of days it took for symptoms to show—if she was successful, she would come and get Harry out. She didn't want to think of what would happen if she wasn't successful.

She grabbed a goblet, dipped a ladle into the cauldron and poured some potion into the cup. With her hands shaking, she brought the goblet up to her lips. Saying a silent prayer, she tipped the goblet and swallowed the substance.

She waited a few minutes. Nothing happened. Alright, that was a good sign, she thought.

Rushing over to her notebook, she wrote in the last directions to the potion. Then she took a piece of parchment and wrote Harry a note. She knew that he would be furious with her after this, but she'd rather face his wrath than see him in a sickbed.

Grabbing her notebook, she stood in front of the door. When they first came to the dungeon to work on the potion, Hermione had charmed the door so it could only be opened with a password of her making. She knew Harry would never figure it out.

Hermione took a deep breath. She hadn't been past those doors in four weeks. She was afraid of what she would find beyond the confines of the dungeons. She closed her eyes, trying to calm her nerves. Here goes nothing, she thought..

"A kiss in the rain," she muttered, causing the doors to instantly swing open.


	3. Out of the Dungeon

**Disclaimer: **As always…J.K. Rowling made it, we play with it :D  
Thanks to my reviewers!

**Chapter 2**

**Out of the Dungeon**

Ron wiped the sweat off his forehead with the back of his hand. He had rolled up the sleeves of his Chudley Cannons' shirt and cut his second-hand jeans to just above his knees in his desperation to cool down.

The sun had barely cleared the horizon as Ron entered the Hogwarts hospital wing.

Rows of occupied beds lined the walls of the long room. Ron stifled a yawn as he started laying out bottles neatly on a cart. The room was nearly silent, with only the occasional moan breaking into the eerie stillness of the room.

Ron could hear a rather painful groan coming from a bed near him. He turned around to see the owner of the noise—a sleeping middle-aged man, trying to turn on his side but failing miserably.

Ron sighed and walked over the man. Placing his hand underneath the man, he carefully pulled him onto his side.

"You didn't come to bed last night."

Ron looked towards the accusing voice. Ginny, dressed in a tank top and a pair of shorts, stood at the entrance of the wing with her hands on her hips as she tapped her foot impatiently waiting for a reply

"There was a problem up in Section 5 that I had to deal with," said Ron.

Ginny made her way into the room. "Well, what do you think you are doing now? Get some sleep. No point in you falling ill from exhaustion."

"Can't, I've got to collect some ingredients from the forest."

"Right, I'm almost out. But I can do that, Ron."

"Nah, we barely have enough potions to last the rest of the day," said Ron as returned to his bottles and rationed out the remaining liquid from the bottles into goblets. "You're best at that. And besides, Remus is bringing in some new patients. I've got to go scout out some extra rooms. We're running out of beds, Ginny," he said worriedly.

Ginny sighed. "I know. More get sick. None get better. Mum's been taking in a few people as w—." Ginny stopped talking so abruptly that Ron looked up from the potions he was measuring.

"Something wrong, Gin?

"Hermione," whispered Ginny.

"What?" Ron looked at the entrance of the hospital wing. The bottle slipped out of his hand, its contents spilling onto the floor. Hermione was standing by the door, her hands trembling.

Ron's mind reeled with fear. His heart beat frantically. Hermione was here. Hermione could get sick. Words left his lips without thinking. "WHAT ARE YOU DOING HERE! ARE YOU MAD?"

"Ron, please listen." Hermione's voice was barely a whisper.

Ron closed his eyes. She's not here, she's not here. She's safe. Nothing to worry about. He opened his eyes. She was still standing by the doorway.

Panic soon overtook his anger. The virus is airborne; she's probably already been in contact with it.

"How could you, Hermione?" he said, his voice trembling.

"Hermione, what are you doing here?" asked Ginny in a much calmer voice.

"I…I…" Her eyes roamed across the room, staring at the helpless figures in the beds.

"I think I've come up with a vaccine…a potion. I've just taken it."

"_THINK!_ YOU THINK? '_THINK'_ IS NOT GOOD ENOUGH! What if you haven't?"

Tears ran down Hermione's cheeks. "What else am I to do? I have to test the vaccine. There's no other way around it. Look at all these people. They had no chance of protecting themselves.

Ron hadn't realized that tears were now running down his face. Hermione was right. He was being selfish in wanting to keep her away from all the danger.

"It's just that…I…the thought of…of losing you…it's…" His voice was so choked up, he couldn't speak.

Hermione came up to him and slipped her hand into his. "I'm not going anywhere, Ron."

Ron flinched at her touch. If she hadn't come in contact with the virus before, she surely had now. He tried to pull his hand away, but Hermione held on firmly.

She pulled him up to his feet and wiped away his tears. "I missed you."

Ron closed his eyes. She had no idea how badly he missed her. "Me too."

Suddenly he snapped his head up, looking at the entrance anxiously. "What about Harry? How is he? Where is he?"

Ginny made a small, anguished sound.

"He's as well as expected. Angry that he's been locked up. I gave him the slip just now. I want to make sure the potion works before letting him out of the dungeon."

Ron nodded, trying not to think about the potion not working. "It's for Harry's own good."

"I just hope he doesn't blow up the dungeon, trying to get out."

"He's sensible enough," said Ginny, though it seemed like she was trying to reassure herself more than anyone else.

Hermione hugged Ginny. "Don't you worry about Harry, Ginny. He has the three of us to keep him safe."

Ginny nodded. "It's good to see you, Hermione."

"Yes. I didn't know if I'd find you two here in the castle. When I went into the dungeon neither of you had made plans."

Ginny crossed her arms. "Well, this wasn't my first choice." Her voice conveyed a bit of irritation.

Ron leaned against the wall, his lack of sleep finally catching up with him.

"This really isn't the place for this conversation," he said softly, eyeing the patients.

"Right," muttered Ginny. "I've got potions to make anyway. We'll talk tonight, Hermione."

Hermione nodded, looking between the two siblings oddly.

"Yay, I've got to go into the forest," said Ron.

"I'll come with you," offered Hermione, quickly. "I haven't been outside for sometime now."

Ron looked at his watch. "Alright, give me a moment."

Ron walked over to the fireplace and threw some powder into the hearth. A room with plush blue couches appeared within the flames.

"Anthony. Anthony!" hollered Ron

"Anthony Goldstein?" asked Hermione, bewildered.

A groggy voice interrupted them.

"Yeah?"

Ron spun around to the face of the sleepy eyed young man in the fireplace. "Why in Hades aren't you down here?"

"Oh, what time is it," asked Anthony as he rubbed his eyes.

"Half past 5! You were supposed to be down here half an hour ago!"

Anthony seemed to wake up slightly as Ron yelled at him. His face turned a shade of red. "Sorry," he muttered. "Won't happen again, promise."

Ron sighed. He'd never get used to this. Hermione was looking at him with a mix of confusion and shock.

Ron gave her a sheepish smile. "You've been a good teacher, Ms. Know-it-All. Let's head out."

As they walked through the castle, Ron stole sideway glances at Hermione, not truly believing she was there. Part of him was thrilled to have her back, while another part wished she'd stayed in the dungeon.

"So, why are we going into the forest?"

"Collecting ingredients for potions…for the patients…everything from painkillers to sleeping draughts."

"Is Ginny making the potions?"

"Yeah, she's always been very good at it. She never let Snape put her down."

"Speaking of Snape, have you heard word of him?"

Ron's eyes darkened. "No," he said, regretfully.

Hermione sighed and the two walked silently passed the grounds.

"You go in there often? Alone?" asked Hermione, eyeing the edge of the forest warily.

Ron smirked in spite of himself. "Are you scared the centaurs will come and take me away?"

"Harry told you about that? He shouldn't have."

"We've been through much worse," said Ron, any hint of humour gone. "Anyways, they've left me alone. According to Firenze, they've predicted the doom of our kind, and are happy to leave us alone and let fate deal with us."

Hermione rolled her eyes. "What about the acromantulas?"

Ron shivered. "They stay in a certain part of the forest. I don't go near there."

"What do we need?"

"_Knotgrass_, _salamander blood_ and _ashwinder eggs_ is about all for now."

"_Ashwinder eggs_! That's a bit dangerous."

"See there?" said Ron, pointing at a trail of ash. "I lit a magical fire a few hours ago right here. The snake would have died by now and left a nest of eggs at the end of this trail."

"Yes, but if you leave the eggs too long, they'll cause a fire!"

"I've been collecting these eggs for a month now, Hermione. I have the timing down to an art."

Hermione looked at him, impressed.

Ron looked away, embarrassed. Many things had changed in the month that they were apart. Ron found himself dealing with a lot more responsibility than he had thought he could handle.

"There they are," whispered Hermione, excitedly, grabbing onto Ron's arm. "I've always wanted to see them in their natural state. They're beautiful."

Ron blushed and his stomach seemed to flutter.

"We should freeze them," continued Hermione, bending down beside the nest of glowing red eggs.

They worked silently for a few moments and then moved on to collect some _knotgrass_.

"It's a good thing we've collected so many. I can send some to Mum. She's probably running low."

"What does your mum need these for?"

"She's turned the Burrow into a makeshift hospital. I've been sending her supplies ever since."

Hermione nodded. "How is your father? Your brothers?"

Ron's body tensed and he looked away.

"Oh God," murmured Hermione.

"No ones…I mean, no one has…died."

Hermione sighed with relief.

"But…but Charlie was badly hurt in an attack. It's been over three weeks and he…he hasn't…he hasn't woken up."

"Oh Ron!"

"And dad…well…he's acting Minister of Magic."

"What? Are you serious?"

"Dead serious," said Ron, a bit irritably. "He's being used, and we all know it, including Dad."

"What do you mean?"

"Amos Diggory was made acting Ministry after Scrimgeour fell ill."

"Cedric's dad?"

"Yeah. But he was murdered two weeks ago."

"WHAT?"

"They found the Dark Mark over his body.

He wiped the back of his hand roughly over his eyes. "We've collected about enough. Let's get out of here before something nasty show up and gives us trouble."

They quickly made there way out of the forest.

"So Diggory was killed and your dad is now Minister?"

"No one was willing to take on the job after what happened to Diggory. Dad, being the noble git he is, gave in and took it."

"Ron!"

"None of us are thrilled with the arrangement, Hermione. Mum and dad had a huge row. I've…I've never heard them fight like that."

Hermione put her hand on his shoulder. "He'll be alright. He's got a lot of good people backing him up."

Ron didn't want to discuss it any longer. "You got a letter from your parents yesterday. It was from Australia."

Hermione closed her eyes. "They listened to me then. The virus, it hasn't…"

"Only Europe so far."

Hermione nodded.

"Hermione! Hermione, is that really you?"

Hermione and Ron spun around. Running towards them was Parvati.

"Parvati is here?" muttered Hermione, astounded.

"Does this mean you've completed the vaccine?" asked Parvati as she stopped in front of them, panting heavily.

"Yes, I think so."

"Oh that's great! It's good to see you." Parvati put down the paper bag she had in her hand and flung her arms around Hermione.

"It's nice to see you too," said Hermione, awkwardly.

"Well, I have to run…only have a half hour break. We'll catch up tonight."

Parvati waved at Ron and headed towards the greenhouses.

"I wouldn't have expected Parvati to stay and help."

"Well, a war brings out the unexpected in people," Ron muttered quietly, his eyes downcast.

"Yes, I suppose. And why is she going off to the greenhouses for a break?"

Ron chortled and smiled slightly. "She's gone to have breakfast with Neville. Seems the two of them have gotten quite friendly."

"Really? They seem so…so…different."

"Stating the obvious."

Hermione chuckled. "Who else stayed behind?"

"Well, there's Ginny, Neville, Parvati and me. Then there's Terry Boot, Anthony Goldstein, Padma Patil and Luna from Ravenclaw. And Suzan Bones, Hannah Abbott, Ernie Macmillan and Zacharias Smith from Hufflepuff."

"All from the DA…"

"It was a brilliant idea, Hermione. Really brought people together. I know Seamus and Dean and even Lavender would have stayed and helped if…if they could…"

"They're sick then?"

"Almost everyone I know who isn't pureblood is sick. The muggles haven't been as badly affected. But there are enough cases to cause alarm."

They stopped at the portrait of the Fat Lady.

"What's the password?"

"U-No-Poo."

"If you say so," replied the Fat Lady, lazily, as she revealed the entrance to the Gryffindor common room.

"_That's _the password?"

"Hey, I thought it was funny."

"Fred and George would be honoured."

"Hermione," started Ron, again, all hints of humour gone within seconds. "About the vaccine…what are the specifics…if say, I took it, would that stop me from _carrying _the virus?"

"Normally, vaccines don't work like that. But I had that outcome in mind when I started and with magic, a lot more is possible. So, I'm positive that if I don't get sick in five days, then the vaccine will have that effect on purebloods."

Ron didn't want to think about Hermione getting sick. "That's good. We can't help the muggles because we'd just spread the disease faster in their world. But with this vaccine…"

"We can finally try and help them," finished Hermione. She was crying now. "Everything's a disaster, isn't it?"

Ron bit his bottom lip. He was never very good at handling tears. He took her hand, led her to a couch, and pulled her head onto his shoulder.

Everything was a disaster. There were more people sick than healthy. The Death Eaters were attacking people at every turn.

The Ministry was in over its head and had no funding now that the wizard world was at a standstill. Fred and George had started supplying the Ministry with all kinds of gadgets, at no cost. There weren't enough people to take care of the ill and fight Death Eaters. Order members were being killed, with no one to fill their places.

The ministry was using his dad. His mum was trying to run a mini-hospital on next to nothing. And his best friend, Harry, was being held against his will…by his friends, no less.

"Ron?"

"Hmm?"

"Has…has anyone died…from the virus?"

"Not yet."

Silence.

"Five days is a long time to wait."

Ron agreed. The waiting would be agonizing. He thought of Harry locked down there by himself…

"You should get some sleep, you look knackered."

"You don't look so good yourself."

"I'll be alright. Remus is coming with more patients. I have to scout out some rooms."

"Remus? He isn't ill? I thought…but he's a half-blood."

"He is…but he's not entirely human, is he?"

"Oh come off it, Ron. He's as human as you and me."

"I'm not saying that I think he's not human, Hermione, but the virus doesn't affect him…Remus says none of the werewolves he knows are sick. And Bill was saying that Fleur's grandmother was muggle-born but she's not sick either."

"Because she's part Veela?"

"Exactly."

"Hagrid?"

"Perfectly healthy. He's in France on Order business."

Ron could see Hermione trying to stifle a yawn.

"Get some sleep Hermione."

"No, I'd rather come with you."

"There isn't much point. It's not a two-person job. You should get some sleep. You'll have lots of catching up to do when Ginny, Parvati and Neville get back and I'm sure the others will be thrilled to see you."

"Are…are you trying to get rid of me?"

"No! No…Hermione…you just look so tired."

"Oh, alright, I guess I could do with a bout of sleep."

"You're bed's not there…you might as well sleep in my bed or Ginny's for now."

"My bed's gone?"

"Yeah, we've been using student beds for patients."

Hermione sighed. "There's that many, then? So many that St. Mungos couldn't accommodate them all?"

Ron skirted around her questions. "Everybody will be coming together for lunch in the staff room at…eleven thirty. We'll talk them"

"The staff room?" asked Hermione, surprised. "Alright, then, I'll save my questions for later," said Hermione, smiling weakly.

Ron watched her as she headed up to the girls dormitory. His heart beat furiously, memories of their one and only kiss running through his mind, for once dominating his usually despairing thoughts. He would have loved to kiss her right then.

"Hermione."

Hermione turned around. "Yes?"

"Um, uh…nothing…nothing. See you at lunch."


	4. Into a New World

**Disclaimer: **And again…J.K. Rowling made it, we play with it :D  
Thanks to all my lovely reviewers!

**Chapter 3**

**Into a New World**

Hermione looked at the clock—11:35am. She sat up in Ginny's bed. She couldn't bring herself to sleep in Ron's bed. She wouldn't have been able to fall asleep surrounded by his scent and yet without him.

Sighing, she got out of bed and made her way to the staff room.

She had so many questions that she hadn't had a chance to ask Ron. Why weren't all these patients at St. Mungo's? Where were the professors? Who was in charge of the school? What was the Order doing? What about the Horcruxes?

Lunch was the perfect opportunity to get some of those answers.

She could hear voices as she neared the staff room. Her heart beat a bit faster. It had been so long since she'd seen many of her classmates—not since the end of sixth year.

"There you are," greeted Ron, moving over to make room for her between Ginny and himself. "I thought you were going to sleep through lunch."

Hermione smiled and settled in between the two Weasleys.

Everyone started talking at once, greeting Hermione and asking her how she was. Hermione felt tears forming at the corner of her eyes. She never realized how much she missed Hogwarts and her former classmates.

Everyone looked different…older…tired.

"So, how's Harry?" asked Neville.

"Well as can be expected," answered Hermione, sadly. Neville seemed to have changed the most. He looked older and more confident and Hermione had a suspicion that his hand was on Parvati's knee under the table.

"Where are the others?" asked Hermione, recalling all the people Ron mentioned. Currently, at the table, there was only Ron, Neville, Ginny, Parvati, her sister Padma, Luna, and Ernie Macmillan.

"Well, we can't leave the patients alone. It's never been all twelve of us eating at the same time," explained Ginny.

"But I don't understand. Why aren't these people at St. Mungo's?"

Everyone fell silent.

Hermione felt her stomach turn. "What happened?"

"St. Mungo's was attacked soon after you were locked in the dungeon. Part of the hospital was destroyed. Nobody has the resources to rebuild right now. Some of the hospital is functional, but it isn't big enough for all the infected people," started Padma.

"Hogwarts was the next best place for patients," finished Neville.

"What about the professors? Healers?" asked Hermione.

Ernie shook his head. "Many of the healers are not pureblood and the ones who are stayed at St. Mungo's. There just isn't enough people."

"As for the professors…most of them are sick. Flitwick is…is dead. You know Slughorn is dead. Some, like Trelawney, wouldn't stay…something about tea leaves and death. McGonagall can't be here…she's needed on Order business," explained Ginny.

Hermione closed her eyes. Professor Flitwick was dead! He had always been one of her favourite teachers.

"Then, how is this place being run? Who's in charge? I mean, the teachers had special magical access. It would be near impossible to keep Hogwarts functional without a teacher."

Luna opened her mouth to speak but Ron cut her off. "Look at the time. We should probably get back to work."

Hermione shot him a nasty look. All the other people looked at him oddly.

"Yeah, I should really get back to the greenhouse," said Neville.

Soon, everyone had dispersed, leaving only Hermione, Ginny and Ron in the room.

"Ron, what was that about?" snapped Hermione. "I haven't been around for a month and you just cut off the conversation. Don't I have a right to know what's going on?"

"Listen Hermione, I just didn't want—," started Ron.

Ginny lifted her hand to silence them. "Do you hear that? Something's going on in the entrance hall."

"What!" exclaimed Ron, rushing out into the hallway, Hermione and Ginny following close behind.

Terry Boot, two women and an unconscious man stood at the entrance doors. The two conscious strangers were supporting the unconscious figure between them.

"What's going on here?" demanded Ron.

"I spotted them walking towards Hogwarts. Took their wands. The man is badly hurt," said Terry.

"Can we have our wands back now!" demanded one of the strangers.

Ignoring their demands, Ron immediately summoned a foolproof secrecy sensor (something the Weasley twins worked on for ages) and ran it over the three strangers.

"Ron, he needs medical attention now!" urged Hermione, watching blood run down the man's face.

Ron sighed with relief. "Nothing on them. Ginny, could you take him to one of the empty rooms in the West wing."

Ginny nodded.

Ron turned to the two remaining strangers. "What are your names? Do you know the man? What happened?"

"Give us our wands back!"

"Answer my questions first," snapped Ron, angrily.

Hermione's eyes moved from the strangers to Ron. She couldn't believe what she was hearing. Ron was so different. The authority in his voice was foreign to her.

"Who the hell is in charge of this place?" yelled the taller of the two women.

"I am," replied Ron in a deadly voice.

Hermione gasped. Ron stiffened as he heard her gasp.

"You're a Weasley, aren't you?"

"Yeah, I am," replied Ron, irritated.

"Who died and made the Weasleys king?" muttered the shorter woman.

Ron gritted his teeth. Hermione knew that the woman's jibe was directed not only at Ron but his father too.

"Terry, will you deal with them? I have to go see to that man."

"Sure thing."

"Thanks."

"Ron, what was that about?" asked Hermione, following him. "Why didn't you tell me?"

Ron kept walking. "I can't talk about this right now, Hermione." Hermione cringed as she heard the coldness in his voice.

Ron continued to ignore her questioning. "We have no idea who this man is. For all we know, this could be a trap. Damn it! I shouldn't have left Ginny with him," yelled Ron, breaking into a run.

He stopped in front of a room in the West wing and pushed the door open. "Are you alright, Ginny?"

"Yeah, I'm fine but the same can't be said for this man. He wasn't just attacked, Ron. He's been tortured."

Ron ran his hand over his eyes, frustrated. "Well, I'll work on him."

"Yeah, I need to get back to the potions. I'll send some up when I'm done."

Hermione felt like crying. She felt like she didn't belong in this new world. She had left the world for the dungeon and when she returned, everything seemed different. Ron was so different.

Ginny put her hand on Hermione's shoulder. "Don't worry Hermione. It's hard at first. We'll talk tonight."

Hermione nodded, gratefully.

Ron was already busy assessing the man's wounds. He waved his wand and a scroll appeared at his side. Hermione couldn't see exactly what was in it but Ron had unrolled it and was scribbling in it as he moved from wound to wound.

His efficiency with the wounded man stunned Hermione. His hands and wand moved quickly. He was summoning numerous potions and jotting things down with ease. He didn't seem embarrassed when removing the man's shirt and trousers. And he did not seem the least bit bothered by all the blood.

How did he know all this? What happened while she was in the dungeon? He was just too different for comfort.

"Ron?"

Ron's back stiffened.

"Ron! Do not ignore me! Why didn't you tell me that you were in charge?"

"Really Hermione…"

"Don't make excuses Ron! You're so insufferable! You've changed so much and yet you still manage to infuriate me beyond belief!"

"Fine! I don't care. Leave me alone. I'm busy," he shot back, harshly.

"Fine!" yelled Hermione, turning on her heels and fleeing, tears running down her cheeks.

Why? Why must he always make her feel so awful? Why had she fallen in love with such an insufferable idiot? She brushed her tears away. Everything seemed so wrong.


	5. Misperceptions

**Disclaimer: **J.K. Rowling made it, we play with it :o)  
Thanks to all my lovely reviewers!

**Chapter 4**

**Misperceptions**

Ron wiped his forehead as he surveyed the man. He couldn't seem to keep his mind focused on the task at hand. His thoughts kept returning to Hermione.

He knew he loved her, he had admitted that to himself months ago. But if that was the case, why had he been so harsh with her? Why was it that he always seemed to be screwing up when it came to her?

Trying to find some way to let out the frustration he picked up the empty potion bottle and threw it against the wall.

He sank to the floor, his body trembling. The combination of no sleep, healing the stranger and thinking about Hermione had completely drained him of any energy.

He had been right though. She gasped when she learned that he was in charge…just like when he got his prefect badge…

It's not like he asked to be responsible for the whole damn school and everyone in it. Hermione just didn't understand. She couldn't understand.

He shook his head and tried to concentrate on the man. Deal with him first, then find Hermione, he thought.

Even though blood and dirt no longer coated the man's body, the numerous cuts and bruises to his face, which wouldn't disappear for a few days, made it impossible for someone who might know him to identify him.

All Ron could tell was that the man had short blond hair, he was a few inches shorter than Ron was and somewhere between fifteen and thirty.

As for his injuries, they were rather disturbing. Burns and deep cuts ran across his body. His face sported several scars and there were numerous broken bones.

The man's continuous tremors led Ron to believe that his attackers—obviously Death Eaters—used _Cruciatus_ frequently. He had already administered the potion that would lessen the side effects of that curse.

Suddenly, there was a knock at the door, pulling Ron away from his thoughts.

"Come in," called Ron, as he quickly got up and tried to compose himself.

"I've sent those two women on their way after giving them some _Veritaserum_," said Terry, as he entered the room.

"They agreed to take a truth potion?" said Ron, surprised.

"I told them they wouldn't get their wands back if they didn't cooperate."

"That would work. You let them go? What did they say?"

"They didn't know anything useful. They found the man lying in a ditch a few miles from Hogsmeade. They thought he was dead but when they realized that he wasn't, they decided to bring him here knowing that we've taken in wounded before."

"So they don't know who this man is?" muttered Ron, waving his hand at the battered man.

Terry sighed. "Not a clue."

"Just great. Nobody knows who this man is."

Terry just shrugged his shoulders.

Ron let out a frustrated sigh. Terry had all the luxury to shrug his shoulders. Ron, on the other hand, would have the burden of worrying about the stranger. After all, he was the one calling all the shots. Sometimes he hated that. For once, he would love to dump the problems on somebody else's lap. But, as always, he wouldn't.

"Thanks Terry."

"Anytime," he replied as he left the room.

Ron stared at the stranger for a few moments. Something just didn't feel right. But at the moment, Ron hadn't a clue about what to do, and with Hermione still on his mind, he wasn't thinking straight.

Deciding to lock the man in the room, Ron headed back to the Gryffindor common room, hoping to find Hermione.

Fortunately, Hermione was sitting in the common room, curled up on a couch, tracing her index finger along the spine of the notebook Ron had given her for her eighteenth birthday.

Hermione looked up as he moved towards her.

"What do you want?" she asked coldly, brushing away tears.

"Hermione, I…"

"You what? You've come to apologize? Do you have any idea how hard this day has been for me? Why did you, of all people, have to make it harder?"

Ron felt his stupid temper rising again. He closed his eyes and tried to calm down. He'd come here to talk to her, not get into another blazing row.

"Give me a chance to explain, Hermione."

"Explain? Explain why you felt that you couldn't tell me that you're in charge. What's your problem Ron?"

"Damn it, Hermione! I'll tell you why I didn't tell you…why I didn't want you to find out in front of everyone!"

"WHY?"

"Because, you think I'm an idiot. It took me long enough to gain their respect. I didn't need you coming in and laughing at me."

"What? Ron. You're not making any sense. Don't be dense…you know I wouldn't laugh."

"See, right there, there, I'm stupid, dense, whatever you'd like to call it. That's what you think."

"That's not true, Ron!"

"Yes, it is. Remember when we got our prefect badges?"

"Of course I remember Ron, but I don't see how that has anything to do with the current situation."

"Yeah, you wouldn't, would you? But don't you remember how shocked you were when I got _my_ badge? You couldn't believe it, could you?"

Hermione opened and shut her mouth like a goldfish. "That's not what I meant."

"Yes it was. You didn't need to say it but it was there. And contrary to popular belief, I'm not that thick-headed…I know Harry would have got the badge if he wasn't…if he wasn't Harry. And I knew that I wasn't the right person…I did, Hermione…but the way you reacted hurt anyway."

"Ron…," started Hermione, desperately.

"And it's the same with this…and this is so much bigger. I heard you gasp when you found out. Do you think I don't know that I'm not the ideal person for the job! I know Hermione! I bloody well know!"

He turned away from Hermione, trying to hide his face.

"You have no idea how bad things have been…_no idea_."

"Then tell me."

"No. I don't want to talk about it."

"Ron," she pleaded.

"Everyday I wake up and wonder if things would be better if someone else was running this place…if you were running this place. You're smarter, more responsible, more organized…more everything."

Ron was having difficulty keeping his voice steady.

"I've been forced to be smarter, more responsible, more organized. I didn't want the responsibility, Hermione. I was scared…I'm still scared but there was no way around it. You weren't here, Harry wasn't here…"

Hermione walked up to Ron and placed a hand on his shoulder. He flinched. If only she knew the whole truth, thought Ron.

xxx

Hermione gently turned Ron around so he was facing her. He tried to brush away the tears building in the corners of his eyes. Hermione had never seen Ron so vulnerable. His intense blue eyes sparkled with unshed tears.

"God, Ron, I'm sorry. I'm so sorry…I was just upset. And you're right, I was surprised, but more at how different you seemed. I'm used to you being laid back. It scared me…I thought I had lost the old Ron."

Ron avoided her gaze.

"But Ron, I may not have thought of you as the most mature boy out there but I never doubted you, not really. Remember how hard you worked on Hagrid's appeal in third year. You always come through when it really counts."

She paused, taking a deep breath before continuing with her own admission. "I think I'm scared that you don't need me anymore."

Ron jerked his head towards her. "What? What do you mean?"

"I'm used to you asking for my homework or getting my notes or needing my help…both you and Harry. I guess…I guess I'm scared that you don't need me anymore. I mean, look at you, the way you handled that patient. Where did you learn all that?"

Ron stiffened yet again and moved away, deliberately ignoring the question. "You…you thought…that I only wanted to be around you because I needed you for homework?"

Hermione could see how upset he was by this comment. She moved to re-close the gap between them. "No, no, that's not what I meant."

"You've been on my mind constantly, Hermione and it sure as hell isn't because I'm looking to snatch an essay from you."

Hermione's heart was beating faster than she thought possible. "What I meant was that I liked being that person you turned to when you needed help, not that that's the reason for our friendship."

"I've always needed you. You have no idea how much it hurts when you're not around, Hermione," he whispered, their faces only inches apart.

"I think I do," replied Hermione in an equally hushed voice. "Ron…the truth is I'm the one who needs you. It's so much harder to function without you being a constant in my life."

Hermione laced her arms around his neck. "We have to stop this game. I can't take it anymore. We have to stop skidding around it, pretending it doesn't exist. We both know that it's there."

"What's there?"

"Us. You and me. It's been too long. Too many little moments, too many fights and only one kiss."

"Only one kiss," repeated Ron, softly.

"Only one—." started Hermione before Ron pressed his lips against hers.

They stumbled into the wall; Hermione's back pressed firmly against a tapestry. His hands were moving up to her hair as he pushed his tongue between her lips.

Hermione lost herself in the passion of the kiss. It was entirely different from their first kiss. She had never been kissed like this. She silently decided that Ron's stint with Lavender wasn't entirely in vain.

He finally found the clip holding her hair up and managed to pull it out, allowing her uncontrollable mass of bushy curls to cascade down her shoulders. His hands ran through her hair.

"Did I ever tell you how much I love your hair?" he murmured as they pulled apart for a moment.

"No," she mumbled before pulling him back into the kiss.

Her hands ventured under his shirt, feeling the subtle muscles of his back. Ron moaned as their bodies pressed against each other.

His hands were now on her hips, his index fingers playing with the elastic of her shorts. Hermione's heart was beating furiously. This was it.

Ron pulled away slightly and looked at her. Hermione couldn't quite recognize the expression on his face—it seemed to be a mix of longing and something else, something despairing. "Hermione…what are we doing?"

Hermione shook the unsettling feeling. "Shh, Ron," she muttered, wrapping her arms around his waist from underneath his shirt and pulling him back into the embrace.

Ron murmured something incoherent and landed kisses along her collarbone.

"Wait," said Hermione, as her sense broke through her ecstasy. "Not here, Ron…what if someone walks in?"

Ron was just about to agree when something caught his eye. Hermione followed his gaze. He was looking at the clock.

He pulled away abruptly. "Oh no, I've lost track of time. Oh Hermione…I can't, not now, I mean, I want too…"

Hermione blushed. Yes, he did. He too was turning slightly red.

"But I can't. I should be with the patients and that man. And Remus is bringing more patients this evening."

Hermione nodded. She never thought the day would come when Ron was the one pulling them back to work. "Of course, Ron." She kissed him softly on the lips. "I'm so proud of you."

Ron smiled, almost shyly.

"And I want to see how you have this place running!" Hermione added, enthusiastically.

Trying to fix her hair, she began to muse. What had gotten into her? Why was she being so forward? For a few moments, all she had felt was pure bliss…not a thought of what was going on in the world had entered her mind…there was only Ron.

Then it hit her. She and Ron had just entered into a relationship, something she'd wanted for a long time…but this was a war. Would they survive, both physically and emotionally? Would they survive to explore their relationship without the pressures of war?

Honestly, stop thinking so much, she thought. We will be fine.


	6. Welcoming the Enemy

**Disclaimer: **You know the drill, the amazing J.K.R created the world of Harry Potter

Thanks so much to all my reviewers! Sorry for the long delay. Hopefully I'll be more timely from now on. By the way, I have edited the previous chapters. And for my previous chapters, I need to thank the lovely Nattieb for her wonderful beta-ing.

**Chapter 5**

**Welcoming the Enemy**

Hermione stood in the staffroom staring at the Marauders' map hanging on the wall, encased in glass. Lines and words were neatly written on the glass overlaying the map. Lines on the glass seemed to represent large areas on the map and each section was numbered.

Ron was crouched down by the other end of the room, rummaging through a drawer full of scrolls.

"So everybody knows about the map then?" said Hermione as she followed the tiny dot labeled 'Harry Potter'. Hermione sighed as she watched the dot pace up and down the length of the main dungeon.

"Well, nobody knows the passwords. The map's really convenient, you know? People are easy to find this way. No patients seem to show up on the map, which is good. The map wouldn't be coherent otherwise."

Hermione turned away from the map. "So what do the lines on the glass represent?"

Ron pulled out a long roll of parchment and brought it to the centre table.

"Sections. Four sections for patients. Two people per section. We rotate shifts so that we can get some sleep without leaving the sections unattended." explained Ron as he pointed at a large schedule plastered on the other wall.

Hermione moved over to the chart. She noticed that everybody only got four hours of sleep.

"Except Ginny and Neville. Ginny does most of the potion making and Neville works in the greenhouses."

Ron was now unrolling the scroll and spreading it on the table. It was a large, ordinary map of the school, littered with Ron's handwriting. Again, the same boundaries were sketched in along with details such as number of room in each section and number of beds in each room.

Hermione noticed that the Gryffindor, Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff dormitories had large 'X's running through them.

"What do the 'X's mean?" asked Hermione as she leaned over the table to examine the map.

Ron just stood there, his palms pressed against the edge of the table, his eyes staring into the map vacantly.

"Ron?"

"Huh?" muttered Ron, shaking his head and frowning.

"Are you alright?"

"Yeah, fine. What were you asking?"

"What do the 'X's mean?"

"Oh, I put those in because there are no more beds available in those dormitories. And I'm almost out of Slytherin beds."

Ron dipped a quill into a bottle of ink and brought it down to the map. He found the room in the West wing where he had left the injured man and wrote 'Occupied – injured man'. He was chewing the end of the quill as he scanned the rest of the map.

"I guess I'll use this," muttered Ron as he enclosed a room on the fifth floor with red ink and wrote in '3'.

Hermione assumed that '3' meant that the room now belonged to section 3. Hermione never imagined that Ron could be so organized. Don't think that, thought Hermione quickly.

"Well, let's go take a look at the room and then we can come back and fit you into the schedule," said Ron, interrupting her thoughts.

Hermione smiled quickly and nodded.

The room Ron had selected was rather big though oddly shaped. It seemed to protrude over the end of the castle wall but when she looked out a window, nothing seemed to be jutting out of the perfectly flat wall.

It was obviously an abandoned room. Dust had settled on all the tables and chairs and cobwebs hang from the corners of the ceiling and underneath the tables. Ron bit his bottom lip as he eyed the cobwebs warily.

Hermione refrained herself from chuckling. She was glad that some things didn't change.

Suddenly Ron looked over his shoulder as if he expected someone to be there. He shook his head slightly and let out a small almost inaudible sob.

xxx

"Why aren't you in bed?" asked Ron as he looked back over his shoulder to see a little boy standing just to his right, a few steps behind him.

"I'm all better now," insisted the small child. He was no more than six years old.

Ron turned around and shook his head. "And how do you know that?"

"Oh, I feel all better. No more hurting head and no more hurting stomach. All better. Only hurting heart."

Ron closed his eyes and quickly muffled a sob. "Well, that doesn't mean you are all better, you should really be in bed, Damien."

"But I'm not sleepy. I want to come with you," he said as he slipped his tiny hand into Ron's hand.

"But Damien, all I'm going to do is clear out some rooms. That's rather boring, innit? I'd feel better if you were getting some sleep. What if you get sick?"

"But I'm not," he insisted, stomping his foot. "I want to come with you. You make my heart hurt less," he said softly.

Ron felt his own heart breaking. He squeezed the boy's hand gently and finally relented. "Alright then, Damien."

"We're going to clear out old dusty rooms?"

"Yup."

"Old dusty rooms have spiders don't they?"

Ron looked down at the boy quizzically.

"Yes," replied Ron, frowning.

Damien smiled a little. "That's alright, Ron. I'll protect you from the spiders."

xxx

"Ron, you alright?"

Ron shook his head. "Sorry Hermione, just spaced out for a moment."

"It's alright," assured Hermione as she watched Ron bring his hand up to his face. Hermione had no doubt in her mind that he was trying to wipe away some tears before turning around.

"We should really clear out this room. Remus could arrive any minute."

xxx

Throughout the rest of the day, Hermione noticed Ron spacing out or frowning for no particular reason. He even seemed to be distancing himself from her as they went about clearing the room, settling in the new patients and scheduling her into his 'operation'.

It was clear that his staff—it did seem odd to think of her former classmates as Ron's staff—respected and relied on Ron.

Hermione had to admit that Ron was right to believe that she wouldn't have thought of Ron as the ideal candidate for the position of leader. She hated herself for thinking like that.

"It's not as if I think he's incompetent," muttered Hermione to herself as she sat on Ginny's bed, ready to get some well needed sleep. She just never thought of Ron as the leading type.

Well, at least she could gladly admit she was wrong. Ron was a great leader. Hermione bit her bottom lip. He made a better leader than she would have.

Hermione pulled the blanket over her body and closed her eyes, a smile creeping onto her face as she thought of the heated kiss they had shared hours earlier. She held onto that memory. She hoped that Ron's odd detached behaviour following their kiss was all a part of her imagination.

Within four hours she would have to get up so that Ginny could get some sleep in the lone bed in Ginny's dorm. Within four hours, she would have spent 24 hours outside of the dungeon. Only four days and four hours left before she could claim her vaccine to be a success…or a failure.

xxx

Hermione woke up with a start. Had four hours already passed? She looked over at the clock. It was only 3:25 am. She still had 2 hours of sleep. What had woken her up?

"Ron! Ron!" hollered a man from the common room.

Hermione pushed the blanket back and rushed to the top of the stairwell.

"Terry?" exclaimed Hermione "What's going on?"

Terry sprinted up the stairs leading to the boys' dormitories as Hermione ran down the girls' staircase.

Terry looked back at Hermione. "The map, there's a new name on the map!"

"What do you mean?" asked Hermione as she caught up to Terry. She hadn't seen anything odd when she was looking at the Marauders' map.

Terry barged through Ron's dorm, with Hermione right behind him.

Hermione stepped back momentarily, startled by change in the room. The room was empty, save for one bed and trunk and stacks of books, leaning against the trunk. Ron was sprawled in the bed, beads of sweat running down his face.

"Ron!" repeated Terry

Hermione knelt beside Ron's bed and shook him gently.

"No Damien, you can't," muttered Ron as he turned onto his side.

"Damien?" asked Hermione, looking up at Terry.

Terry ignored Hermione's question. "Ron, get up," he yelled loudly.

Ron jerked out of the bed instantly and grabbed his wand, pointing it at Terry.

It took him a second to adjust to the light emitting from Terry's wand.

"Terry, Hermione?" he said as he lowered his wand and looked around for his shirt. "What the hell is going on?"

"There's…there's a new name on the map," muttered Terry.

"What? Who?" asked Ron. He was now pulling the shirt over his head. Hermione couldn't help but stare at his freckled chest.

Terry shifted his feet. "Umm, the man we brought in today…umm, well, the map, it shows…in the West wing…Draco Mal—."

"WHAT!" hollered Ron.

Terry and Hermione watched as Ron ran passed them and down the stairs before chasing after him.

Hermione was out of breath by the time she caught up to Ron.

Ron was standing at the entrance of the room, staring at the man in the bed. He was sitting up in the bed, wearing a pair of pants, his sheets shoved to the side. His chest and head was wrapped in clean white bandages. He seemed to be trying to lift his leg but failing miserably.

"Trying to make a break for it?" hissed Ron through clenched teeth.

Malfoy turned to the voice, startled.

Hermione still couldn't recognize the man. The man sitting in the bed bore no resemblance to the cocky, smug, clean-shaven boy she remembered. This man was scruffy, battered and completely lost.

"Weasley?" His voice was both scratchy and shaky. Hermione could only imagine the kind of torture he had been through to strip him of all his arrogance.

"What? Thought you you'd never see me again?" Ron's hand was curled tightly around the knob of the door while he held his wand at Malfoy's chest with his wand hand.

"Where the hell am I?" demanded Malfoy. It was obvious that he was trying to reinstate his egotism. He wasn't succeeding.

Ron slowly walked into the room, smiling smugly. "What? Don't recognize the place?" mocked Ron, directing his eyes to the Slytherin bed sheets.

Malfoy looked at his sheets and recognition crossed his scarred face. "Hogwarts."

"What a genius."

"Ron…" warned Hermione. She didn't feel comfortable with the way he was mocking a helpless man, bastard or not.

"Don't pity him Hermione! He tried to kill Dumbledore."

"But he couldn't. Besides, and that's the last we saw of him. So many things could have happened since then. Look at him! He so badly hurt."

Ron spun around and glared at her. "After all that he's done to us. To Harry. The things he's said!"

"They're only words. Words from a manipulated boy."

"I don't need you defending me," hissed Malfoy. Hermione noted that he didn't call her a mudblood.

"He's absolutely right, Hermione. You don't need to defend him. I'm going to throw him out. Let him fend for himself. It's not like sending him to Azkaban would do any good."

"Ron, listen to yourself. We're not supposed to act like they do."

Ron visibly tensed and turned back to Malfoy.

"It appears you have a savior, ferret. Aren't you a lucky one?"

Malfoy opened his mouth to give a rebuttal but was suddenly silenced by a fit of coughs. His thin frame shook as he tried to muffle the sound with his hand. It wasn't until he removed his hand did they realize that he was coughing up blood.

Despite himself, Ron furrowed his brow with what could only be interpreted as worry. He cursed under his breath before summoning a small bottle of clear potion.

"Here," he said roughly as he poured the liquid into a small cup. "Drink this."

Hermione still couldn't figure out how Ron knew so much about healing. Taking care of people infected with the virus definitely didn't require the knowledge Ron seemed to possess.

"Why the hell would I trust the likes of you, weasel?"

Ron let out a harsh laugh. "Because, lucky for you, you're at my mercy. Unless you want me to take you back to that ditch for you to die."

Silence.

"I didn't think so. Drink it."

Ron took Hermione's hand as Malfoy struggled with the potion and pulled her out of the room. Terry stepped out with them.

"So we're going to keep him here?" asked Terry.

"Well, we can't just dump him somewhere, can we?" reasoned Hermione.

"St. Mungo's couldn't take him," admitted Ron.

"And Azkaban doesn't even exist right now," added Terry.

"And the ministry doesn't have the time to deal with him, I'm sure," said Hermione.

"Fine, fine, he'll stay here. The bloody bastard will just have to stay here until he recovers. Then he's going to be incarcerated, one way or another."

"Of course," assured Hermione.

"Hey, I'm no fan of Malfoy either. There's just no other option," said Terry.

"He seems so lost, Ron," said Hermione, trying to gain his support. "Besides, we'd be just as bad as them if we let him die."

Ron clenched his jaw and averted his eyes. "He'll stay, alright," he snapped.


	7. Preserving Innocence

**Disclaimer: **You know the drill, the amazing J.K.R is created the world of Harry Potter  
Back to quick updating :D. Thanks to all my reviewers.

**Chapter 6**

**Preserving Innocence**

Draco Malfoy could hear his former classmates arguing just behind the door. Why was stupid Weasley the one to decide whether he stayed at Hogwarts or not? Not that he wanted to stay at Hogwarts. He despised Hogwarts. He despised the Weasleys and Granger and Potter.

He banged his head against the wall and tried to lift his leg again. It didn't budge. What the hell was wrong with his leg? He clenched his teeth as a sharp, agonizing pain shot through his back.

Ron's angry voice cut through his thoughts. "He'll stay, alright."

Draco tried to suppress the pain that seemed to take his body prisoner. It was all too much. Merciful blackness soon engulfed his pain as his eyes fluttered shut.

xxx

"Stupefy," yelled Harry.

Snape had just barely missed the red light searing past his head.

"Run, Draco!" he yelled.

Draco didn't lose any time looking back as he sprinted towards the gates of Hogwarts. Everything seemed to blur around him as his head began to throb. He just stepped past the gates as the yells behind him intensified.

He stumbled further away from the gates contemplating his next move. He didn't think he could disapparate without splinching. Where was he going to go anyway? He had ruined everything. Why had he been such a coward? Why couldn't he kill the old fool? Now his life was merely a dying flame, waiting to be extinguished. There was no hope for him or his family. He had failed.

And yet he kept running, the instinct to live, even if it was only prolonging the inevitable, fueled his body. He ran away from Hogwarts, in the opposite direction of Hogsmeade. He kept running before he found himself surrounded by nothing but a few trees.

He sank to the ground, his back pressed against a broad tree trunk. He closed his eyes for a moment before he heard a sharp 'pop'.

His eyes snapped open and he looked up to meet the person who would decide his fate.

Snape stood over him, panting heavily. "Get up boy."

Draco didn't make any effort to obey the command. He had almost wished it was Potter who found him. He would have killed him on the spot. Now he would be taken to the Dark Lord. It seemed that he wasn't fated for a quick and painless death.

"Have you gone lame, boy?"

Draco slowly lifted himself and looked at his professor. Snape's expression was hard to read. He didn't have the look of triumphant pride that Draco had expected. He had just killed the Dark Lord's greatest enemy. He had done the unthinkable. Why wasn't he basking in the glory?

Snape's hands were trembling. He looked tired and defeated. If Draco hadn't known Snape better, he would think that the man was going to collapse.

"Take this," he ordered, holding out a broken muggle pencil in his robed hand. "It's a portkey."

Draco looked at it stupidly.

"It'll take you to a room. You are to stay in that room. Do not use any magic and do not try and leave the room, it's locked. I'll be along shortly."

Draco continued to stare at the pencil as if it were about to come alive and stab him to death.

"I do not have the time, Draco. Do as you are told or you will be dead within the week."

Draco finally found his voice. "Why are you…helping me," he choked.

Snape let out a frustrated sigh. "I have to go," he pressed on, urgently. "Just do as you are told for now."

Draco eyed the portkey with a bit of suspicion. Was he really going to trust the man who _just _killed Albus Dumbledore because he couldn't do it himself?

Before he could decide his next move, Snape grabbed Draco's hand and dropped the pencil into his open palm.

As soon as he landed on his feet he knew that he hadn't been sent to a holding place for the Dark Lord. At one end of the room was a four poster bed with dark navy blue sheets. Beside it was a birch desk and chair. At the other end of the room as a large box with a lid at the top and beside that was a sink and stovetop with a set of cupboards beneath it.

Draco lifted the lid of the box and found frozen food inside. Under the sink were some imperishable rations and some pots and dishes. There were no windows and only two doors in the room—one which was locked and another that led to a small bathroom.

Still thoroughly confused, exhausted and defeated, he fell into the bed and leaned his head against the wall. Why would Snape help him. What kind of mind game was he playing? He wondered how long it would be until he was hand delivered to the Dark Lord.

Hours passed before he heard the familiar 'pop' of someone apparating into the room. He spent those hours mulling over the devastating turn of events. He still couldn't understand what had happened. Why had he been foolish enough to destroy his family's only chance of survival?

Snape removed his robe, revealing claw marks running across his arm, and entered the bathroom without speaking. After about ten minutes he remerged with his arm wrapped tightly in a white bandage.

"You will have to remain here for the time being. I'm not sure how long. There are enough rations to last a month but I will come periodically to make sure you are all right. You must refrain from magic unless absolutely necessary. It may be detected. Only I know about this place, so only I can apparate here. The Dark Lord won't find you here."

As he spoke, he pulled out some food supplies and started preparing a meal, his back to Draco.

"But…I don't, I don't understand Professor."

Snape instantly tensed. The knife that he was using to cut some bread clattered onto the counter.

"I'm no longer your professor," he hissed through clenched teeth.

"Sn..Snape?"

"Yes, that will do."

"Why are you helping me?"

"I promised your mother," was his only explanation.

"My mother? Where is she?" he asked fearfully. "Is she alright?"

"She's safe…for now."

"Why would you help us? You must be the most revered Death Eater now."

"That may be the case but nothing is as it seems, Draco."

Draco was silent for a while. Snape just continued to prepare the food. Suddenly everything seemed to make sense.

"Dumbledore wanted you to kill him," stated Draco in a hushed, trembling voice. It wasn't a question.

Snape bowed his head. His hands gripped the edge of the counter, as if he was trying to prevent his body from shaking in pure anger.

"So that you would be guaranteed the highest regard with the Dark Lord." The ultimate sacrifice.

Draco paused, tears finally breaking free. "And so…so…so I wouldn't…wouldn't make a murderer of myself." He was sobbing softly now.

He drew his knees towards his chest and gave up all restrain, allowing his body to tremble with the sheer realization of what actually transpired at Hogwarts; what he had almost done; what he couldn't do despite the _high_ stakes; what Snape had been forced to do in his place.

"You've always been Dumbledore's man, haven't you."

"Not always," replied Snape. His voice resonated with utter defeat.

He turned around with two plates of hot food in his hands. He stared at the boy sitting on the bed, his knees drawn inwards, with tears running down his face. He obviously didn't know how to handle emotional teenage boys.

Draco thought he would have laughed if he were in any other situation. He turned his face away from his former professor and hastily wiped his tears.

Snape handed him the plate of food before settling into the chair and placing his own plate on the desk.

Draco poked at his meal, which consisted of a thick slice of bread, carrots and fried ham. He momentarily wondered how Snape knew how to cook the muggle way. Draco didn't even know how to cook the wizard way.

"Thank you," he muttered.

They ate in silence.

"I don't know when I'll be back next, Draco," said Snape, breaking the silence as he finished his meal.

Draco nodded, not really wanting the brooding man to leave him alone with nothing but his thoughts.

Snape got up to leave. "It'll be hard, Draco, I won't lie to you but you're not a Slytherin because you are a pureblood or because your family prescribes to a particular doctrine of purity. You're a Slytherin because you are a survivor.

Draco nodded dumbly. The former professor had never spoken to any of his pupils, not even the Slytherins, with such genuine concern and encouragement.

Snape stood there looking at Draco intently before he spoke again with a sense of personal regret lacing his voice.

"Just be glad that the Dark Lord did not succeed in making you the kind of man he wants of you. Be glad that you did not become a murderer today."

And with those parting words, he disappeared.

xxx

Ron, Hermione and Terry finally reentered the room to find their subject of argument lying in the bed motionless.

Ron neared the bed and noticed Draco's chest rising and falling slightly. "He might have passed out because of the pain," he said as he placed his fingers on his neck to check his pulse.

"Probably for the best," muttered Ron. Why was he feeling sympathy for this man?

"Ron, maybe we should all go back to bed. You've put up enough security measures and given his state, he's not a danger to anyone," suggested Hermione.

Ron kept staring at his schoolboy enemy. "You too get some sleep. I'll be up in a bit. Don't worry about me Hermione. I'm not used to much sleep anyway," he said.

Terry nodded and slipped away.

"Ron," implored Hermione.

"Honest Hermione, I'll be fine. And don't worry, I won't do anything to the ferret, promise."

Hermione smiled ruefully. "I know you wouldn't, Ron." She kissed him softly on the forehead.

Ron closed his eyes and tried not to tense up. He didn't deserve her affection. How could he ever have deluded himself to believe that he was worth her love.

"Would you like me the stay with you?"

"No, it's all right. I just need some time alone."

Hermione nodded sadly and left him with the unconscious Malfoy.

Ron walked up to the bed and pulled the sheets over the half naked man. Sweat was running down Malfoy's face. Ron placed his hand on Malfoy's forehead. He was burning up.

Ron ran his hand through his own hair and grumbled with frustration. He must have missed something the first time he had assessed the man. He had been preoccupied with his fight with Hermione. "Don't think about Hermione," muttered Ron,

Something must be infected.

Ron raised his wand and summoned a scroll of parchment, with the letter 'U' etched on the side.

Using his wand, he turned the letter 'U' to 'M, D'. He unrolled the parchment. At the top, in Ron's writing was:

Patient Name: Unknown

Sex: Male

Age: Unknown

He changed it to:

Patient Name: Draco Malfoy

Sex: Male

Age: 18

He quickly read over his notes in what a muggle would call the patient chart before returning to Malfoy.

He pulled back the sheets and started inspecting the injured man. He had cleaned and bandaged every wound and he had already assessed and dealt with his internal injuries.

Frustrated, he started removing his bandages. He had cleaned and dressed all the wounds thoroughly. None of the wounds should have become infected.

His hands began to tremble as an unwanted thought tugged at the back of his mind.

"Please no, not again" he begged as he expertly worked at the bandages. Malfoy was lying on his back and Ron found all the wounds to be the same as the last time he saw them

Deciding to examine his back, he pushed Malfoy onto his stomach and immediately saw the problem. A painfully deep wound on his lower back (which before seemed to be in the process of healing) was now red and yellow and seeping with pus, with red streaks spreading towards his heart.

"Damn it," cursed Ron. His whole body was trembling. It was a magical wound. He'd seen it before. He stumbled backwards, tears blinding his vision.

"Merlin no," he whispered as he desperately tried to grab a hold of something to steady himself. Instead he tripped over a table leg and fell to his knees.

His breathing had grown heavier and hitched. He closed his eyes but they instantly flew open as unwanted memories invaded his mind.

He blindly groped for the tabletop. Finally getting a hold of the ledge, he pushed himself up, willing his legs to stay steady.

His hands trembled as he returned to the bedside and stared at the wound. It was evil at its prime. There was no way to distinguish a normal wound from one magically manipulated.

Such a wound started to heal like any other wound and then suddenly, as if from nowhere, it would get infected (regardless of diligent changing of bandages and the most sterile practice). The infection was always severe, sometimes even fatal.

Ron looked away from the wound. He thought of the blonde boy he had grown up hating. He thought of the man lying helpless in the bed, the one that was supposed to be that boy, that hateful, despicable boy. He thought about his own failures, his devastating failures.

He wasn't going to fail twice. Even if the man once represented the dogma he so despised. Knowing that healing him wouldn't bring back what he had lost.

The man in the bed wasn't the same boy he had loved to hate. Why couldn't he be that boy. He wanted to hate him so passionately that it consumed all his other feelings, all his agony.

Suppressing the need to scream senselessly, he summoned a cart of various potions.

It wasn't summoned in the fashion accompanied with spells like 'accio', with the cark breaking through walls.

No, it just appeared beside him as if it had transpired out of thin air.

Ever since McGonagall had put him in charge of the school, he was able to do the things that had awed him as a boy. He remembered the time Dumbledore had filled the whole Great Hall with purple sleeping bags in his third year or the many times he muttered some rubbish and filled the hall with delectable food.

He had thought these feats were part of Dumbledore's great powers. They weren't. Ron would never again equate such silly achievements with the greatness of the man who resonated throughout the walls of the school even in his death.

No, all the teachers were able to do things within the school walls that no student could ever do. Ron was sure he was the first person to have similar powers without even graduating. McGonagall had given him access to them just before she left for Scotland on Order business. With no other teacher there, she had handed the school to him.

When he was younger, he might have boasted about being given all the powers of a professor without even completing his seven years. He would have boasted about being solely responsible for the whole school. But he was different now.

Malfoy was no longer the boy he remembered and neither was he.

The boy that he remembered, the one who wished for recognition and boasted whenever possible and refused to relent to reason, was gone and he didn't even have the time to mourn for that boy.

He didn't even have time to mourn the loss of his innocence.

* * *

**A/N: **Well, that's chapter 6. I enjoyed writing this chapter. I've never been a fan of Draco Malfoy but I appreciate canon and I love where J.K.R is taking his character. He's definitely a more interesting character after the sixth book. As for Snape, I've always been a big Snape fan and as I finished the sixth book I was convinced that Snape is still on Dumbledore's side. 


	8. Damien

**Disclaimer: **You know the drill, the amazing J.K.R is created the world of Harry Potter  
Thanks so much to all my lovely reviewers.

**Chapter 7**

**Damien**

"Hermione, do you know where Ron is?" asked Parvati as she walked into Ginny's dormitory.

"I need him to open up the floo network for me. I was going to have a quick visit with my parents."

Hermione pushed back her blanket and rubbed her eyes. "Hmmm?"

"Oh, never mind, I'll go check the map," said Parvati, turning away.

"Wait, Ron? I'll go get him," replied Hermione as she stifled a yawn.

Hermione walked through the halls, heading straight for the room in the West wing. She cursed herself for not making sure Ron had gotten some sleep. She'd only been back for two days and she could already tell that Ron was exhausting himself.

She soon found Ron. He was slumped over the bedside table, his head resting in his arms. Malfoy lay asleep on his stomach in the bed beside Ron.

Hermione sighed. Every time she found Ron sleeping in the last two days, he always had a pained expression playing on his face, as if he were dreaming bad dreams. He probably was.

"Ron," murmured Hermione as she pushed his shoulder gently.

"Huh? What? No, give him two doses, only two," he blurted as he jerked awake.

"What are you talking about?"

Ron looked at Hermione with a disoriented stare. "Hermione?"

"Yes, I—"

Ron recovered quickly. "Oh, Hermione, sorry, just umm, yeah. Merlin, what time is it?"

"Half past five in the morning."

"What! I must have dozed. I shouldn't have." He looked over at Malfoy and felt his forehead. "Little bit better but not by much," he muttered.

"Why? Is he sick?" asked Hermione. "I mean—more than the injuries?"

"Infected wound," he said quickly.

"Ron, how long did you stay up?" she asked suspiciously.

"It doesn't matter."

"Yes, it does!" exclaimed Hermione. "You'll make yourself sick and then what use will you be?"

"Stop pestering me, Hermione! I know how to take care of myself!"

"Obviously not!"

"I have things to do," he said angrily.

"Honestly Ron—"

Ron turned away from her and started measuring potions into a small cup.

"What are you doing?"

"Trying to keep his fever down. I can only give him two doses of this every five hours—too much would cause unwanted side effects."

Hermione narrowed her eyes, attempting to recognize the potion.

"Where did you learn all this? _When_ did you learn all this?" She was constantly asking the same questions. If only he'd give her the answers.

Ron slouched slightly. "Could you pass me that scroll? Over there on the table."

Hermione let out a frustrated sigh as she stalked over to the table.

"Parvati wants you to open up the floo network for her," said Hermione, hotly.

Ron rubbed his palm against his forehead and sighed.

xxx

_Three and a half weeks earlier_

Ron pressed his hand against his side painfully, feeling the warm liquid soaking his shirt. He stood there, slightly dazed, unable to comprehend what had just happened.

Then he heard sobbing. The boy, he thought, snapping himself out of his stupor. Avoiding the falling debris he pushed his way towards the boy.

A small boy, with messy black hair knelt beside his mother, pushing her roughly. "Mummy, get up," he pleaded through sobs.

The boy's shirt was drenched in blood. He was trembling furiously and clanking his teeth as he sobbed.

"Shh," whispered Ron, as he knelt beside him. One glance at the woman told him that she was dead. Still, he placed his fingers at her neck. No pulse. No chest rising up and down. Dead.

Ron closed his eyes. How was he supposed to tell this boy that his mother was gone?

Suddenly a small hand grabbed his shirt. "W—why won't she get…get u-u-up?" he asked, his teeth still clanking.

"She's…she's…" Ron didn't know what to do. The boy looked up at him expectantly, with imploring eyes.

"She's g-gone, isn't s-she?" he said after a few moments, in a defeated voice.

For a fleeting moment Ron was glad that he didn't have to say it—that he didn't have to be the person who broke the news to the small child.

"I'm sorry," he said lamely, anger brewing in the pit of his stomach.

The child rested his head on his mother's stomach and sobbed quietly. Ron's hand hovered over the boy's back, wondering if he would be able to comfort him. He curled his fingers away. Nobody could comfort him.

Suddenly flames ignited by the walls of the room. Large flames licked at the wooden structure. A beam shifted and started to fall. The boy screamed as the beam came crashing down on him.

Ron flung himself over the boy before the beam landed, wrapping his arm around him and disapparated. He landed painfully on his wounded side right outside the Three Broomsticks, the child still wrapped in his arms.

The boy was shaking violently. Ron slowly got up. The child clung to him as if Ron was his only life source. He snaked his arms around Ron's neck and buried his head in Ron's shoulder.

Ron nearly passed out as the pain in his side intensified and as he soaked in the scene before him.

Hogsmeade was most literally going up in flames.

He could see bodies lying motionless on the streets. Buildings that he had many fond memories with Harry and Hermione were being consumed in fire. The house that he had just disapparated from crumbled to the ground like a stack of cards.

The sobs of the boy snapped him out of his trance yet again. There wasn't a fireplace that would be intact. How was he going to get the boy back to the castle?

He could make a portkey but making portkeys were more risky than apparating. And he'd didn't have much practice with making portkeys. If he messed up, they could end up in two different places.

Holding the child tightly, he apparated in front of the gates of Hogwarts. He gazed passed the gates. He was injured. He was carrying an injured child. And it was a long walk to the castle.

Passing through the gates, he decided to stop.

He stroked the boy's hair, soothingly. "What's your name?"

The boy pulled his head away from Ron's shoulder and looked at him through teary eyes. "Damien."

"Damien? Well, Damien, I'm Ron," he said gently. "Will you let me put you down for a moment so we can see to your cut?"

He shrugged. Ron summoned a stretcher and some bandages, before setting Damien down on the white material. Damien seemed reluctant to leave Ron's arms.

Ron crouched in front of him, feeling helplessly lost. He didn't know the first thing about healing. He didn't even know how to deal with a wound.

He pulled off the boy's shirt to reveal a long, deep, nasty slash cutting right across his stomach. Blood was smeared all over his pale skin. Ron held back a gasp and a string of curses, not wanting to frighten the child.

What was he going to do? Clean the wound, he thought. But how? He was at the far end of the Hogwarts grounds. The forbidden forest loomed on one side and the empty Quidditch pitch on the other side.

There was a potion for cleaning wounds, but he didn't know where it was in the castle—he couldn't summon something without knowing where it was.

Just stop the bleeding, thought Ron. He wiped away the blood around the wound. Damien gasped in pain and sucked his stomach in before letting out another gasp.

"We'll get you looked at nice and proper soon but for now I'm just going to wrap these bandages."

He lay there trembling as Ron wrapped the bandages.

"Can I levitate you on the stretcher?"

Damien looked around at the stretcher he was lying on. He gazed at Ron, frightened.

"It's ok," Ron assured as he ignored the pain in his side and scooped the boy back into his arms. Biting his bottom lip, he readied himself for the long walk ahead.

Damien continued to sob quietly and his body continued to shake. Ron knew that the convulsions were partly due to being exposed to the Cruciatus curse. Ron had walked in on a Death Eater laughing as Damien screamed under the unforgivable.

Ron had never been so enraged in his life. How could anybody, Death Eater or otherwise, inflict such pain on such a small child? He almost didn't regret what he had done.

"Ron?" whispered the boy.

"Hmm?"

"You're bleeding too," he said. Ron looked down at his side. Damien's left leg was wrapped around Ron's side and the child's trouser was now soaked in Ron's blood.

"I'm alright." He ignored how dizzy he felt.

He continued walking until he was forced to lean against a tree to prevent himself from collapsing.

"Shit," he muttered. His mother would have scolded him for using foul language in front of a preschooler.

Ron sank to the ground slowly. Maybe he should have done something about his own wound.

"Put bandage," said Damien, holding out the extra bandages that he had clutched in his small fist.

Ron nodded but didn't make the effort to take the bandages.

Damien stood up in front of Ron. He flinched in pain but stared directly at Ron.

"Put bandage!" he demanded. He tried to drape the white material around Ron over his blood drenched shirt.

Ron's eyes fluttered. Too much effort, he thought.

Damien fell to the ground with his legs crossed. He buried his face in his hands, crying. "Put bandage," he pleaded softly.

The boy's cries seemed to arouse Ron's fading senses. What was it with this child? His sobs always seemed to snap Ron back into action.

"Shh, it's alright, Damien," he said, soothingly as he reached out for the bandages.

The lightheaded feeling did not leave as he bandaged up his wound. He had lost a lot of blood. But feeling rejuvenated, he looked down at Damien, who was watching him critically, and put out his arms to pick him up again.

Damien stood up from his cross-legged position and shook his head. "I can walk."

Ron doubted that. Damien had also lost a lot of blood. And his tremors were still very strong.

"I'm fine, kiddo, don't worry."

Damien shook his head. He looked at the looming towers of the castle and pointed. "We're going there?"

"Yes."

Turning his head back at Ron, Damien took a hold of Ron's hand and led him towards the castle.

xxx

Hermione kept busy throughout the day, following the schedule posted in the staffroom.

Ron seemed to be avoiding her.

She tried to convince herself that his avoidance was merely because he was buried in task after task. And besides, taking care of Malfoy was an additional responsibility.

Hermione let out a frustrated sigh. Why was she fooling herself to think that after that breathtaking kiss things would fall into place for the two of them? Nothing was right. Ron obviously had issues that Hermione hadn't foreseen and didn't know how to deal with.

She scoffed. Maybe she'd have a better hold of the situation if people would stop leaving her in the dark.

She made her way back to the staffroom. Ron had scheduled her break at the same time as his but given that she hadn't spoken to him since the morning, she didn't know where he was.

She had to speak to him. She couldn't concentrate on the more pressing issues of war if she was fighting with Ron. She didn't care if they yelled. In all the times that they fought, the silence was worse than the yelling.

"Hi Hermione," greeted Padma, who was sitting at the long table, reading a big textbook.

"Hi," said Hermione as she went over to the map. A dot with the label 'Ron Weasley' stood stationary in the Head Boy and Girl office.

"Looking for Ron?" asked Padma.

"He's in the Head office," muttered Hermione.

"Do you know the password?"

"No," said Hermione, with a sigh. She never had the chance to take up the offer of Head Girl.

"It's sugar quill," offered Padma.

Hermione turned around to Padma, surprised.

"Head Girl, remember," explained Padma with a shrug. "Even if I was second choice. Ron didn't change the password as far as I know."

"Right," said Hermione. "Thanks."

Padma shrugged her shoulders again. "No problem."

Even though Hermione had never been inside the Head office, she knew exactly where it was. During her early years at Hogwarts she would deliberately make her way passed the room, daydreaming about having access to it one day.

But life didn't seem to play out the way she envisioned.

She hadn't planned to be a witch and go to a magical boarding school in Scotland. But when she got her letter, she had never been so excited in her life.

She hadn't planned to become best friends with a troubled boy-hero and a tall, awkward red-haired boy. But now, life would have no meaning without her two boys.

And she certainly hadn't planned on falling in love with that awkward red-haired boy.

"Sugar quill," muttered Hermione. The heavy door swung open instantly.

Banners of all four houses draped the walls of the square room. Ron was sitting on a couch at one end of the room.

Hermione's heart broke.

He had his back pressed against the back of the couch, his arms wrapped around his legs, which were drawn tightly to his chest. His head was bent down but Hermione could see the tears slowly traveling down his cheeks. His body shook slightly with his soft, almost silent sobs.

She'd never seen Ron cry before.

"Ron?" whispered Hermione as she sat down beside him and placed her hand in his hair.

Ron jerked in surprised. "Hermione," he gasped. "I—." He shook his head, unable to explain himself.

He tried to wipe his face but Hermione grabbed his hand gently and guided his head into her lap.

"Shh," she murmured as she stroked his hair. Ron settled into a comfortable position, not protesting quite as much as Hermione anticipated.

"I'm sorry, Hermione," Ron whispered. "I know I've been sort of a jerk lately."

Hermione snorted softly. "That's nothing out of the ordinary," she said as she rubbed her thumb against his cheek, brushing away tears.

Ron lowered his eyes, ashamed.

"I was only joking, Ron."

"I just, I can't talk about…it's all too…just not now."

"I know," assured Hermione as she whisked hair away from his eyes.

Ron snuggled closer as his eyelids drooped. He trembled less and drifted asleep.

Hermione sighed as she gazed into his less than peaceful face. She wondered why he had been crying. She wondered a lot of things—but her questions could wait until he was ready.

She bent down and kissed him softly, tasting the salty tears that had settled on his lips.


	9. One Day Left

**Disclaimer: **You know the drill, the amazing J.K.R created the world of Harry Potter  
Thanks to my lovely reviewers!

**Chapter 8**

**One Day Left**

Ron felt warmth against his face. Someone was slowly running their hand through his hair. He almost felt content. Reluctantly he opened his eyes slowly to see where he was.

Why was his head resting in Hermione's lap? Suddenly he remembered—he had been crying. Shit, he thought. He had been crying in front of Hermione.

He sat up quickly, causing Hermione to jerk her hand back in surprise.

"What time is it?" asked Ron.

"You still have a few minutes before your break is over. I would have woken you up in time."

Ron nodded, but kept his eyes diverted from Hermione. He could feel his cheeks getting red.

Hermione put her hand on his shoulder. "Ron?"

"Uh?"

He got up quickly and ran his hand through his hair nervously.

Hermione got up and stood in front of him, trying to read his expression.

"Didn't…I didn't mean…" Why couldn't he sound just a bit comprehendible?

"Stop it Ron! Stop trying to hide your emotions. You never used to do that!"

"Hermione—"

She grabbed his hand, ignoring the clamminess. "I love you, Ron."

Ron snapped his mouth shut immediately, his eyes widening. What did she just say?

Hermione gasped at her own admission. Then she shook her head, as if she was trying to clear her mind. "Don't look so shocked. What else did you think?"

Ron remained speechless, the words ringing in his ears.

"Well, say something," she said quietly, sounding terribly vulnerable.

"I…" He loved her. He didn't even know when he started loving her. Maybe he had always loved her—ever since he helped save her from that troll.

Ron held back his tears and glanced away from her.

"I have to go," he blurted before turning on his heels and running out of the room.

xxx

_Three and a half weeks ago_

Ron never thought he would find himself in the school library, in the middle of the night, buried in piles of books. No one would have believed him if he told them. That was Hermione's forte, not his.

But here he was, racing through as many healing books as he could get a hold off. Beside him, a quick-quotes quill (Fred and George's non-joke or exaggerative variety) was busy jotting down everything he said.

Ron let out a frustrated sigh. Healing was so complicated—more complicated than he would have ever expected.

"Ron, I thought you were supposed to be sleeping," said Ginny, snapping him out of his concentration.

She was standing on the other side of the table, her hand on her hips.

"They're not going to get better on their own," snapped Ron, remembering the middle-aged wizard that had died just a couple of hours ago. They had cleaned his wounds but there were complications they hadn't foreseen. If he had known what to do, he wouldn't have died!

"You can't blame yourself, Ron," said Ginny.

Ron shrugged off the comment and turned his head back to his book.

"I came looking for you because of that boy you brought in. He's been having nightmares. He woke up and he's really scared. He won't stop crying."

Ron looked up, startled. "He's awake?" When Damien and Ron finally reached to castle, Ron had cleaned his wounds, gave him some blood replenishing potion and put him to sleep in the hospital wing.

Ginny nodded. Ron grabbed a couple of books, his quill and parchment and followed Ginny out of the library.

Ron cursed under his breath as they entered the hospital wing. Maybe he shouldn't have left the boy alone. He seemed to have grown attached to Ron while remaining suspicious of his colleagues.

"Damien?"

The child was curled up, on his side, sobbing quietly, eyeing the wounded Hogsmeade residents in the other beds.

"Hey, Damien, shh, don't cry," he said, not knowing what to do.

He looked at him. "I…he…" He sobbed loudly. "Mummy's gone…I see her going…going away!"

Ron held back his own tears.

"She's not really gone. She'll always be with you, even if she isn't here," he said. His words sounded lame to him. He didn't know the right things to say or do.

"I'm scared. I keep seeing…_him_."

Ron bit his lip. _Him._ The masked man who had killed Damien's mother. The man who tortured Damien…the man Ron had killed.

Ron stumbled back, feeling like a cold hand had just gripped his heart.

"Ron, are you alright," asked Ginny, placing a hand on his shoulder. Ron jerked away violently.

Damien stared at Ron before fresh tears started running down his face. Ron snapped out of his own terror and gathered the boy in his arms.

"Shh, I'll take you somewhere nicer and…and I'll tell you a story. You'd like a story wouldn't you?"

Damien shrugged his shoulder.

"I'm going to take him to the common room, he can sleep in Harry's bed," Ron told Ginny.

Ginny nodded.

Ron sat in one of the couches by the fireplace in the Gryffindor common room, with Damien on his lap.

"See, isn't this a nicer place?" asked Ron.

Damien nodded and attempted a small thankful smile. "Will you stay with me?"

"Of course I will. Wouldn't be anywhere else."

"You'll tell me a story?"

Ron gulped. He didn't know how to tell a story. He was the second youngest kid in his family; he never had to tell stories.

"Alright, I'll tell you a story and then tuck you into bed. Do you want a real one or a made up one?"

"A real one."

"Alright, let's see. Once upon a time there was a little girl—"

"Yuck, no girly story."

Ron chuckled softly. "Not girly, promise. Now this little girl, she was about 11 at the time, is the biggest know-it-all you'll ever meet."

"What's her name?"

"Um…Hermione."

"Do you know her?"

"Yeah, I know her really well."

"How she look?"

"Well, she has brown eyes and curly hair that's kind of bushy." Ron paused. "And she's really pretty."

"Yicky."

Ron smiled. "I guess at your age I thought girls were yicky too. One day, on Halloween in fact, she was being the most know-it-all of all times in class. See, she could do this spell really well and I couldn't."

"You're in this story too?" he asked, delighted.

"I sure am. After class, I said something really mean and she heard me!"

"What did you say?"

"Oh, that doesn't really matter…something about her being a nightmare, I imagine. It wasn't very nice of me. But when she heard me she went crying off and stayed in the girl's lavatory for the rest of the day!"

"This sounds like a girly story," he said, pouting.

Ron ruffled his hair. "I promise it isn't. That evening we had a great big Halloween feast and then one of the professors comes running in screaming, 'TROLL, TROLL!"

Damien clapped his hands together. "A real troll?"

"Oh yes, very real. They're big and ugly and smelllllly," Ron said, pinching his nose and making a face.

Damien laughed.

"So we were all told to go back to our rooms. But my friend, Harry—"

Damien gasped. "Like Harry Potter?"

"Yes, Harry Potter." Harry could never escape his fame.

"You _know_ Harry Potter!"

"Yup."

"How does he look?"

"Well, he's about this tall," Ron said, holding his hand just above his chin. "He's got messy black hair and green eyes."

"Does he have lighting on his forehead?"

Poor Harry, even little kids wondered about his scar. "Yeah, he has a scar."

"Wow. Mummy…" He let out a small sob. "She says he's real brave."

"He's the bravest," agreed Ron.

"I think you're brave too."

Ron gulped and tried to smile. He didn't feel very brave.

"Well, so Harry said, 'What about Hermione, she doesn't know about the troll!' So we ran to the lavatory—"

"You went into the girls' loo?" Damien asked, appalled.

Ron smiled, remembering their many days in Myrtle's washroom. "Yup, straight into the girls' loo and straight into the troll."

Damien gasped and leaned closer to Ron. "Then what happened?"

"Well…"

Ron brushed the boy's hair away from his face as he finished his story. Damien yawned and curled up against Ron.

"You're the bravest person I met, Ron. I want to be just like you when I grow up," Damien said just before closing his eyes.

Ron sighed. He wasn't too sure if he agreed with the child's sentiments. He'd made a lot of mistakes in his life. He was still making mistakes.

He gathered the boy in his arms and took him up to his room. After tucking him into Harry's bed, he climbed into his own bed and pulled out one of the books on healing that he had taken from the library.

x

The days passed quickly at Hogwarts.

Ron learned more and more about healing with every day. He had started writing detailed notes and instructions about each patient for his friends to refer to when dealing with the wounded.

St. Mungo's started sending patients to Hogwarts, ignoring the fact that it was being run by a bunch of young wizards and witches, some who had never even graduated. The hospital seemed too desperate to worry about who was taking care of their patients, as long as they had somewhere to be.

That's when Ron decided that they needed a proper schedule and wards. If they were going to send him all these patients, in addition to the wounded he had from Hogsmeade and his original virus patients, Hogwarts would have to start running more like a hospital than a school.

But he still had a hard time dealing with patients who died. Why was he so incompetent?

Ron pulled the white sheet over the witch's body, sighing deeply.

Neville put a hand on his shoulder, trying to comfort Ron. "There was nothing you could have done, Ron. Don't bring this upon yourself."

Ron slumped into the chair beside the still body and dropped his head into his hands, his shoulders shaking.

"Stop it Ron," Neville demanded angrily. "You barely sleep. If you're not here with a patient, you're in the library. You have saved countless lives. And I refuse to watch eat yourself away every time you aren't able to fix the unfixable."

"Just leave me alone, Neville."

Neville grumbled to himself. "Here, drink this," he said, leaving a small cup on the bedside table before leaving.

Ron looked at the pepperup potion warily. He had been feeling under the weather lately and Ginny insisted that he take the potion everyday.

He was staring at the potion when Damien came walking towards him. Since Damien arrived, Ron was rarely seen with out Damien (unless Damien was sleeping). He had been sitting at a table at the far end of the room, colouring with some crayons Ron had found.

"Hey there kiddo," greeted Ron, trying to mask his frustration quickly.

"Are you alright, Ron?"

"Yeah, I'll be just fine." He stood up and took Damien's hand, leading him away from the dead body.

"You want to go for a little walk?" Ron asked, smiling fondly at the boy.

Damien smiled and nodded.

"What do you have there?" asked Ron, pointing at the piece of parchment in Damien's hand.

"I made this for you," he said, shyly, handing the parchment to Ron.

It was a childish picture drawn with crayons. On the left of the parchment stood a girl with brown hair, on the other side stood a boy with black hair and a lighting scar and in the centre stood a tall boy with bright red hair and blue eyes. Behind the figures was a troll lying on the floor with a club beside it.

"Wow, Damien, this is the best drawing I've ever seen!"

Damien smiled. "It's you and Harry and Er-my-nee beating the troll."

"So it is! Now I have a picture to go with the memory," he said, beaming down at the boy as he ruffled his hair.

xxx

Hermione stood in the middle of the room, staring blankly at the door.

"Oh God," she whispered as she sank to the floor. What had just happened? Had she really told him how she felt? And had he really just run out without so much as an acknowledgment?

Tears spilled onto her top.

"Get a grip," Hermione muttered. There had to be some explanation. She would have to wait for Ron to come around.

She looked at the clock and gulped. She only had just over one day before she found out if her potion worked—only one more day to make things right with Ron.

* * *

Thanks to all my reviewers. For my anonymous reviewers:

**katerina**: I'm honoured that you reviewed my story when you don't usually! He is a bit off right now, isn't he? Don't worry, Hermione will get to him :D. Thanks so much for the review.

**greenpluff**: Thanks so much for the review! More about what happened to Damien soon :D.

**quatto**: Thanks so much!

**Tiffany1037**: Thanks so much for the review! Yeah, I love Ron/Hermione and Remus/Tonks too and I have a soft spot for Snape, lol.


	10. At his Bedside

**Disclaimer: **The amazing J.K.R created the world of Harry Potter and we just play in it  
Thanks to my reviewers. You guys are the very best!

**Chapter 9**

**At his Bedside**

The pressure of the hot water hitting Hermione's hands didn't snap her out of her trance. She just stood in front of the hospital wing sink, starring aimlessly into the mirror in front of her as she rubbed her hands together.

She hadn't seen Ron since she blurted out those three precious words. Sighing, she moved her face closer to the mirror, examining her puffy eyes.

"Hermione, are you just going to let the water scald your skin," asked Ginny as she placed a hand on Hermione's shoulder.

Hermione jerked her hands away from the water before bending over and splashing water onto her face.

"Sorry, just spaced out for a moment," she explained, turning around.

Ginny raised an eyebrow and smiled. "Well, that doesn't happen too often, unless…"

Suzan, who was attending to a patient near the door, chuckled softly. "Unless she's thinking of a certain somebody, isn't that right?"

"Hmm," muttered Hermione. Did everyone know about them? Hermione snorted softly, not that there was a 'them' to speak of.

"You know, it's only a few hours before the five-day mark," pondered Suzan. "Are you nervous?"

"You haven't a thing to worry about," assured Ginny. "Nothings going to happen."

Hermione lowered herself into a nearby chair as the reality of her situation hit her with full force. She was ten hours away from the five-day mark. What if the vaccine didn't work? What if she fell ill and Harry remained locked away in the dungeon?

Her eyes roamed over the still patients. She couldn't give Ron anymore time. She needed to talk him now.

"Do you know where Ron is?" she asked abruptly.

Ginny began to shake her head.

"He went to Hogsmeade, actually," answered Suzan. "Passed him on his way out about a half-hour ago."

Ginny glared at Suzan. "He'll be back soon, I'm sure," said Ginny.

Hermione shook her head. "I've got to see him now. I don't have time."

"Really Hermione, he'll be back before nightfall at the least. You've got time," protested Ginny.

Hermione gave Ginny a quizzical look. "No, I'm going now," she replied, getting out of the chair.

"Hermione, I wouldn't advise…I mean, it isn't a good idea. Why don't you just wait—"

"Why the hell shouldn't I go out to Hogsmeade," snapped Hermione.

Suzan gasped. Hermione never swore.

"Well, answer me!"

"Hermione, listen, just stay here."

"God Ginny, what's wrong with you people? Why are you constantly keeping things from me?"

"He just needs time," she replied. "Give him some time."

"I DON'T HAVE TIME!" Her whole body was shaking with anger. Why couldn't anyone understand that?

"Damn it, Hermione, you have no idea what we've been through…what's he's been through!"

"Ginny, Hermione," reasoned Suzan.

"Because nobody will tell me anything," retorted Hermione, ignoring Suzan.

"You wouldn't understand," Ginny said. "You were safe in the dungeon, remember."

Hermione stared at Ginny. "Are you blaming me? Is this my fault?"

"No, I didn't mean…"

"You very well did! Didn't you forget? I'm not a _pureblood _like you. You think I wanted to be down there? You think Harry wants to be down there?"

"So now I'm the bad guy because I'm pureblood. That's low. Without us, what would you do, huh?"

"Oh so now people like me are your charity case, is that it? Let's help the poor mudbloods and halfboods."

Ginny gasped, her fingers curling into a fist. "How dare you!"

"Girls, this is getting out of hand," interjected Suzan desperately.

"I hope you all treat Harry better than I've been treated. You know how he feels about being left in the dark," hissed Hermione before storming out of the room and slamming the door behind her.

She brushed away her tears roughly, as she jogged towards the Hogwarts gates. Panting softly, she pushed passed the gates and quickly apparated to the Three Broomsticks.

She landed roughly on her hands and knees. Slowly, she stood up, brushing the dirt off her trousers before gasping and stumbling backwards.

"Oh my God," she whispered as she eyes soaked in the devastation that lay before her.

This was what Ginny didn't want her to see.

Any semblance of the Hogsmeade she remembered was in shambles. Nothing was left of the wizardry town except rubble and charred bricks.

Wind wailed through the desolate streets, ruffling a few of the pebbles on the ground. Hermione wrapped her arms around herself. Hogsmeade was nothing but a ghost town now.

Why would Ron come here? Placing her hand above her eyes, she scanned the area. The tiny figure of Ron was easy to spot despite the distance between them. He was standing in an area that the Shrieking Shack used to occupy.

Rubbing her forearms gently, she made her way towards Ron, walking slowly to avoid tripping over debris.

As she approached the lone figure, Hermione was able to make out short stone markers surrounding Ron. Gravestones, thought Hermione, shivering slightly. There definitely wasn't a graveyard there before.

She stopped a few feet behind Ron, watching him carefully. He was standing in front of a gravestone, his head bent down and his shoulders shaking slightly. He was muttering softly, but from her position, Hermione couldn't make out anything.

Suddenly he kicked at the ground angrily, causing soil and rocks to fly up into the air and collide with a nearby gravestone, before turning around.

Hermione sucked in some air. His eyes instantly fell on her. He stared at her with blank, bloodshot eyes.

Hermione held his stare as she made her way through the graveyard. All the gravestones were identical box shaped slabs with a names (and no dates) sketched into them.

Finally, she reached Ron. She couldn't help but glance at the headstone that had his attention. Damien Dunstan. Damien. Ron had muttered that name before.

"Ron."

"What are you doing here?" His voice was raw.

"I was looking for you."

He averted his eyes. "You shouldn't have come. It's not safe."

"I can take care of myself," she said as she moved forward to stand beside him.

He gazed upon Damien's gravestone.

"You don't have to do this alone, Ron. All you have to do is let me in. I know I haven't been around but I am now."

They stood in silence for a few minutes. Hermione watched him gaze at the gravestone from the corner of her eyes.

"He was a good kid," he whispered suddenly, in a choked voice.

Hermione slipped her hand into his and squeezed it gently. So, Damien was a child.

"He didn't deserve this, any of it." The defeated vulnerability in his voice devastated Hermione.

He turned to her face abruptly. "Why did this happen?" His previously blank eyes raged with emotions and pain.

Hermione shook her head, apologetically. "I don't know," she said as she brushed away a few tears from his cheek. He moved his head away from her touch.

"He was a good kid."

xxx

_A few days ago_

"Ron, RON!" yelled Neville, as he barged into the bathroom. Ron was standing in front of the bathroom mirror, in a pair of jeans, patting his hair with a large red towel.

"Merlin, Neville, it's bloody four in the morning. Just a little bit louder, why don't you."

"It's Damien," said Neville, panting. "He's all feverish."

"What the hell?" exclaimed Ron. He grabbed his shirt and pulled it over his head as he sprinted towards his room.

"He was fine an hour ago…sleeping soundly," cried Ron as he pushed passed the door of their dormitory.

"I don't know, I just came in to get something and noticed it," explained Neville.

Ron's heart nearly stopped when he saw the boy. His hair was drenched in sweat. He placed his hand on his forehead and groaned. He was burning.

"Ron?" muttered the boy, his eyes fluttering open.

"Hey buddy," greeted Ron, trying desperately to hide his panic.

"I'm cold."

"I know," he said soothingly, sitting down beside him. "Here, drink this." He flicked his wand. A cart laden with healing potions and other healing items appeared beside the bed.

Ron helped Damien lift his head so that he could sip the fever-reducing potion.

"My tummy hurts, Ron," he said.

"Like a tummy ache?"

Damien shook his head. "On the outside."

Ron's eyes darkened and he sucked in some air. How could that be possible? It had been three weeks since the attack. Ron's eyes widened with terror after he lifted Damien's shirt over his head.

The long gash across his stomach should have been a faint scar by now. He'd checked him just two days ago and they were nearly healed. But now…now the uprooted gash was glaringly red, with pus seeping from it and the skin around it was a sickly yellow. Streaks of red seemed to run under his pale skin towards his heart.

"Dear Merlin," gasped Neville.

"Ron?" Damien whispered, fearfully.

Ron tried to put on a brave face. Damien lifted his head to look down his stomach and gasped.

"Ron, what's happening? Why…why…I hurt," he whimpered.

Ron started to tremble furiously as his head throbbed painfully. How did this happen?

Damien's bottom lip was trembling as he looked up at his surrogate father. He grabbed Ron's hand. "It's okay, Ron," he said, his voice attempting to sound brave.

Ron nodded and flicked his wand again. A book with the title '_The Healer's Series: Lacerations_' fell into his waiting hands with a loud thump.

"You're…you're going to be just fine."

Damien smiled.

"I'll be back soon," said Neville as he watched Ron flipped through the book feverishly. "I have to attend to some plants but I'll be back."

Ron nodded absently.

"I'm tired," mumbled Damien as his eyelids fluttered closed. Ron jerked his head away from the book as Damien's body fell into unconsciousness.

"Fuck," he cursed. According to the book, some wounds created by dark magic appeared to heal before a full-blown infection results.

"What's the bloody counter-curse?" he exclaimed as he continued to read the book.

_There is no counter-curse. The wound can only be treated with the regular set of potions and spells. However, in many cases, the infection is too advanced to treat._

"No," whispered Ron, desperately.

x

"How's Damien?" Ginny asked Neville as she entered the Gryffindor common room.

It had been a few hours since Damien fell ill. Everyone in the castle knew that Ron was in his room, desperately trying to hold onto the dying child.

"Not good. He's awake now but he's really weak."

Ginny closed her eyes. "And Ron?"

Neville shook his head and sighed. "What do you expect? You've seen those two. If Ron wasn't so young, people would mistake them for father and son."

"I know," replied Ginny with a hitched voice. "I'm going to go see them."

Ginny pushed the door to her brother's room quietly. Ron was sitting at the child's bedside, stroking his hair.

"And then Harry and Hermione came running in and I yelled, 'It's a trap!'" Ginny could tell that Ron was trying to keep the fear out of his voice.

"Because the dog was the bad man?" Damien's voice was quiet and weak.

"Well, we all thought he was a bad man."

"He wasn't?" asked Damien, surprised.

Ginny smiled.

"Oh, hi Ginny," greeted Damien. "Ron was telling me..." He paused to catch his breath. "About being kidnapped…" Pause. "By a big black dog...who isn't really a dog."

"Is he now?" said Ginny in an unnaturally cheery voice.

"Ok, time for another dose of potion," said Ron as he poured the liquid carefully into the cup.

Ginny watch as Ron gently helped Damien drink the potion and her heart broke a bit. She feared that Ron was working himself into a state of denial.

"Can I talk to you for a moment, Ron?"

"Not right now, Gin."

"Ron, please."

Ron grunted but stood up anyway and walked to the other side of the room.

"What is it Ginny, can't you see I'm busy."

"Ron, just be careful, please."

"What hell are you talking about?"

Ginny gripped Ron's forearm. "You…" Tears gathered at the corner of her eyes. "You have to be prepared for…for the worse."

"Nothing's going to happen!" he whispered harshly, yanking his arm away and walking back to Damien.

"Ron?"

"Yeah kiddo?"

"Mummy said…"

"You shouldn't talk too much. You've got to save your strength."

Ron sat back down beside him.

Damien shook his head and looked at him with determination. "Mummy said my daddy isn't a good man."

Ron bit his lip. "He was a bloody git for leaving your mummy…and you."

"I wish you…were my daddy."

Ron jaw quivered and he let out a choked sob.

Ginny's tears ran down her cheeks. This just wasn't fair.

"I'll…I'll be you're daddy, Damien. You've…you've just got to hold on…please." His voice was laden with pain and desperation.

"I'm tired."

"No, no, you're going…going to get through this."

Damien shook his head with resignation.

Ginny's heart broke further. She was witnessing this intuitive six-year-old child accepting his own death. Something was terribly wrong about that.

"No, no, no, no…"

Ginny sighed. A pending death that her eighteen-year-old brother wasn't accepting.

"I love you," whispered the boy.

Ron buried his face in the boy's hair.

Ginny stared at the two trembling figures. Her brother and this orphan boy had done something she had thought impossible. They had created a bond of such intensity in just three short weeks.

But she understood. Giving the circumstances, she could see how it happened.

Ron was a lost boy, faced with enormous responsibilities that were unfairly thrust upon him. And he didn't have the two people he relied on for support. Seeing Ron in the halls of Hogwarts without Harry and Hermione was always a bit unnerving.

Damien was another lost boy. He had watched his own mother die and endured torture that many adults never had.

Ron saved the orphaned boy and took him under his wing. In return, Damien saved Ron.

"I love you, too," Ron whispered into his hair before kissing him affectionately on his forehead.

Damien smiled and curled his small, clammy hand into Ron's large, trembling one.

"I want to hear…the rest of the story."

Ron attempted to smile, but the corner of his lips barely moved.

"Well, where was I?" He couldn't seem to take the pain out of his voice. "Oh right, so the man disarmed my friends. He was raving. 'I'm going to kill him!'"

"We didn't know what to do. We thought the man was going to kill Harry! But then, someone came stumbling into the shack."

"Who?"

"You missed the part where you say that he'd have to kill you before he got to Harry," interrupted Ginny.

Ron's cheeks reddened.

"Harry told me," continued Ginny. "You stood up on your broken leg and yelled at him. 'You'll have to kill us first!'"

Damien beamed at Ron with admiration.

"It wasn't a big deal," mumbled Ron.

"I think it was. It was very brave of you," insisted Ginny. She rarely complimented Ron, even if she did think he was brave and loyal. But she felt the need to let him know that she was proud of him.

"Yeah," agreed Damien, smiling.

Ginny chuckled. "And kids never fib, Ron."

Damien moved his head closer to Ron, resting it against his thigh. Ron instinctively brought his hand to Damien's hair and weaved his hand through it tenderly.

The affectionate scene instantly reminded Ginny of the times she had rested her head against her dad and listened to him tell her a story as he stroked her hair.

Sitting in a nearby chair, Ginny listened as Ron continued his story. She noticed that he had altered the story slightly to make it less complicated and less scary.

"And so, they left me in the hospital wing to save Sirius from the…Damien, Damien!"

Ginny leapt out of her chair, causing it to scrap loudly against the floor.

Damien's eyes were shut and his chest wasn't rising and falling as usual. She felt her heart constrict.

"Damien! Get up," Ron pleaded as he shook his body. "Come on! Come on…no, you haven't heard the…the…rest of the…story." Sharp hiccups interrupted his hitched voice.

"Ron," murmured Ginny as she placed her hand on his shoulder. Her hand vibrated with his tremors and hiccups.

Ron just kept shaking the still body, repeating the words, "Get up, Damien."

Ginny's tears spilt into Ron's hair. She tried to move him away from the body. "Ron, you…"

"Go away, Ginny," he snapped. He was in denial.

Ginny didn't feel comfortable leaving Ron with the body. She felt like he still believed that Damien would get up. She didn't want her brother to lose his mind.

She cupped his face. "Ron, please. Come out of this room. Have something to eat. Stay in the common room. Don't stay here."

"But he might wake up."

Ginny let out a strangled sob. "Oh Ron, please…"

"I'm not leaving him alone."

Ginny started to tremble.

He sat there, staring silently. It reminded her of how he sat silently waiting for news on their father's condition after the snake attack.

"Just go, Gin. I'll wait up with him."

"Ron," she said as she grabbed his hand and placed two of his fingers on the side of Damien's neck. If anything, his newly fond aptitude for healing would knock some sense into him.

"Do you feel a pulse, Ron? Do you." Ginny held her breath.

Ron jerked his fingers away. "No," he sobbed.

Ginny sighed with relief. She couldn't have her brother go crazy right then. She wouldn't know what to do.

His whole body shook violently. "No, no, no, no."

"I'm so sorry, Ron," said Ginny, crying softly.

Ron turned to look at her like a lost child, his eyes searching her face for some kind of explanation.

"There was nothing any of us could do." Shit, she thought, that didn't sound at all comforting.

He looked just about ready to pass out. His body slid off the bed as he fell to his knees on the floor. Ginny quickly wrapped her arms around him, sinking to the floor with him. He gripped her shoulder tightly as he sobbed violently.

"It's not fair," he whimpered, his tears dripping onto her blouse.

"I know," she murmured, as she stroked his hair, much as he had done with Damien a few minutes ago.

"He trusted me…I…I failed him…I lost him."

"No, Ron," she said. Her voice sounded harsher than she had meant. "You did nothing wrong. Don't you dare put this on yourself! You hear me?"

Ginny felt him shaking his head. "He's…only six." His hiccups and sobs continued to interrupt his words.

Ginny tried to ignore the use of present tense.

"I would…have…been his…dad. I want…to be." His hiccups and tremor refused to subside.

"Oh Ron," she cried. "I'm so…" Her words trailed off as sobs overcame her. She had never seen her brother so devastated.

Suddenly, his body fell limp in her arms. For a fleeting moment, she thought that she had lost Ron.

"Ron," she cried in a panicked voice. She pushed him gently away from her body to see if he was all right.

She couldn't live without him.

His head fell forward, his chin bobbing against his chest for a moment. He'd passed out.

Ginny sighed with relief and berated herself for thinking so irrationally.

She pulled her brother's limp form back into her arms and held him closely, wondering if he'd bounce back from this tragedy.

xxx

* * *

**A/N: **I had so much more planned for this chapter…a whole scene with Hermione and Ron after the flashback, but it's already so long. The characters just seemed to control my writing process and I ended up writing too much. So, all the Ron and Hermione stuff has to wait for the next chapter.

I really, really didn't want to kill Damien. I've grown fond of him and I could really see Ron continuing to take care of Damien after the war. But, he had to go, as unfortunate as that was for me.

I hope I was able to convey why these two characters created such a strong bond, that I compare it to father and child, in just three weeks. It may seem unrealistic but what I find with kids is that they can grab your heart and never let it go. And Damien did spend all of his time with Ron. Also, given the circumstances of loneliness, foreign situations and loss, they were even more predisposed to creating such a bond.

And on another note, I added that bit about Hermione and Ginny fighting because it seems natural that people would come to odds with all the pain and frustration in the air.

And to my anonymous reviewers:

**katerina: **I didn't want to let him go, sighs. Yeah, Ron's a bit messed up. Poor guy. Thanks so much for always reviewing :D.

**Ash:** Thanks so much for the review! Harry should be back in the next chapter :D.

**Amy-Chris:** Aw, thanks! It's good to know that I've developed the relationship nicely. I've always imagined that Hermione would say it first. Ron's going to get those words out soon :D. Thanks for the great review!


	11. Accepting Solace

**Disclaimer: **The amazing J.K.R created the world of Harry Potter and we just play in it  
Thanks so much to everyone who has reviewed! I really enjoyed reading all of them.  
**Warning: **I used a swear word (things like bloody and idiot not included) once in this chapter.

**Chapter 10**

**Accepting Solace**

Hermione and Ron stood in silence. Ron stared at the gravestone while Hermione held onto his hand tightly.

"The day they attacked St. Mungo's, they also attacked Hogsmeade," Ron muttered, finally breaking the silence.

His eyes remained on the grave.

Hermione found herself squeezing his hand with encouragement. He was finally going to let her in.

"By that time, all the professors at the school were either dead, sick, missing or on Order business and McGonagall, with no other option, put me in charge of the school and some local Hogsmeade residents who had already fallen ill."

Lighting flashed in the distance. Ron tilted his head to the sky. Hermione wanted to hug him and tell him that he had done an outstanding job running the place. But she didn't want to interrupt his thoughts.

"They were only supposed to stay at Hogwarts for a day or two…to give St. Mungo's a chance to add more beds. But…"

His voice choked.

"After the attack, Hogwarts became as much a hospital as St. Mungo's."

He paused. His eyes fell on the gravestone in front of him. A strong gust of wind rushed passed them and Hermione felt Ron shiver.

"That day, we rushed out to Hogsmeade after getting a distress call from Honeydukes. We all fought. I heard a…a scream…coming from the top floor of a house near The Three Broomstick."

He pulled his hand away from Hermione's and crossed them over his stomach tightly. His eyes glistened with tears.

"A…a…death eater…torturing…a child."

Damien, thought Hermione. Ron was shaking now.

"I—I…," his voice trailed off and he turned his back to Hermione in an attempt to hide his face.

Hermione moved forward, stubbornly refusing to let him hide his feelings. He was staring at a small cluster of white flowers with yellow centres.

He crouched down and examined the plant. "These weren't here before. And they usually only grow in the spring."

"They're beautiful. You know what they are?"

"Wild primrose. We have some in our garden."

Hermione nodded. The Burrow's garden was a beautiful array of wild plants.

He stayed there, crouched down by the flowers, admiring their beauty amongst the ugliness all around them.

Then his eyes glazed over with hatred and regret. "I killed him," he muttered. He stood up and turned around to Hermione. "I killed that man, Hermione." His voice was trembling. He was trembling.

It took Hermione a few seconds to process his words. He had killed the man who was torturing Damien?

"Damien was so small…he was screaming in pain. Who does that to a kid, Hermione? I just…I just sent him flying back with my wand…he hit his head against a metal bedpost."

"It was self-defense," whispered Hermione as she tried to catch his eyes. He kept them averted.

"No, Hermione. I didn't have to kill him. I used too much force."

Hermione placed her hand on the side of his face and forced him to look at her. "Don't blame yourself. You didn't mean to kill him. This is a war. And you saved that boy."

Ron's whole body tensed and he stumbled away from her. Hermione berated herself. How could she be so stupid? They were standing at Damien's grave. Hermione didn't even know how the child died but she was sure Ron blamed himself.

"That's exactly it, isn't Hermione," he yelled. "I didn't save him. I failed him. I killed that bastard and Damien still died!"

"No, no," cried Hermione, desperately.

"You don't even know what happened! He was hurt and I didn't see it! Maybe if I…if I had done something…earlier…maybe he'd still…"

Tears ran down Hermione's cheeks as she moved towards him. Ron stepped back as she approached.

"And…after he…died…I wanted so badly to…to get my hands on the man who…who gave him that bloody wound in the first place."

Ron started laughing bitterly.

"And the best part is…I couldn't get my hands on him…you know why, Hermione? Do you?"

"Ron," pleaded Hermione.

"Because I already killed him! I already fucking killed him!" he yelled.

He shook violently as he continued to walk backwards, away from Hermione. He stumbled against a large rock and fell to his knees.

Hermione ran to him and knelt down in front of him, wrapping her arms around him.

Ron was bottling up so much pain and guilt. He lost a boy who obviously meant a lot to him. He blamed himself for his death. And despite hating that Death Eater, killing him had traumatized him. She wondered if anyone else knew about the Death Eater.

"I just miss him so much, Hermione. It hurts…hurts like nothing I've ever felt…and I don't…I don't know how to make it stop."

Hermione wanted to reassure him. But she couldn't. Not really. She had never lost anyone important to her. Harry might know what to do, but she didn't.

She tightened her grip on him and he buried his face in her hair.

Lighting flashed across the sky again followed by the loud cracking sound of thunder.

"You would have liked him," he whispered, calming down a little as Hermione rubbed her hand up and down his back soothingly.

"I know I would," Hermione said.

"And he would have liked you. I told him…I told him all about you. He used to call you 'Er-my-knee 'cause he couldn't say Hermione.

Hermione chuckled softly.

"He used…to draw pictures of us…you, me and Harry."

Hermione's heart ached as she listened to him reminisce. This was so unfair.

"You'd always have brown eyes and brown hair that was kind of big."

"You told him I had bushy hair?" she asked, pretending to be offended.

Ron gave her a little half-smile—not a very big one—but a smile nonetheless. "Oh, there's nothing wrong with bushy hair. I happen to like bushy hair, actually."

Hermione smiled and pulled him back up onto his feet. Rain had started to fall softly, making the gravestones glisten.

"Hermione, about last night…"

"You don't have to worry about it," interjected Hermione. Ron had enough things on his mind.

"No, Hermione. This is important. I'm just so confused lately. Sometimes I'm so…angry and other times I feel…lost…and…alone."

He looked away from her as if he was ashamed.

Why did boys hate showing any vulnerability?

"I keep messing things up with…with you."

"No, no you don't," protested Hermione.

"I've been messing things up since third year."

"We were both stupid as kids, Ron. But I want you to know that I'm here for you now. I'm not going to leave."

Ron nodded. "I do love you, you know," he whispered.

"W-what?" She always knew that he loved her. She just needed to hear it.

"I love you, Hermione. I just…"

Hermione gripped his hand. "What?"

"What if I'm not the same person you fell in love with?" he muttered.

Hermione wanted to hit him—slap him right across the face and knock some sense into him.

"Don't be silly Ron. I was in love with the boy from school and I'm in love with the amazing man he's grown up to be. We all grow up, Ron. None of us is going to stay the same. But that doesn't change how I feel."

"But…"

"No buts, Ron." The rain was falling harder now. "Maybe we should get back."

Ron glanced at Damien's grave and then at the cluster of primroses near it. "Yeah, we should get back."

"How did you get here? Did you apparate from the gates?" asked Hermione.

"No, I took Tenebrus, the threstral. He's faster than my broom."

"A…a threstral?" said Hermione, as she looked around her. She couldn't see it—even on their Horcrux search, she had never seen anyone die.

"He's over here," Ron said as he pulled her away from the graveyard.

Hermione frowned. She did not like flying…especially on threstral.

"Here," said Ron as he held her by the waist and hoisted her onto the invisible animal's back.

Ron climbed on in front of her before she snaked her arms around his waist and held on tightly.

Ron sighed. "You know what's ironic, Hermione?"

"What?"

"That the first person I saw die, died at my own wand," he said sadly, his voice shaking slightly.

x

"Oh, there you two are," said Luna, airily as Hermione and Ron came into the castle, dripping wet. Neither of them had bothered to use an impervius charm to repel the rain.

"Why, has something happened?" asked Ron alarmed.

"No, no, not at all, Ronald. Not to worry. We knew you were in town. I was just saying, 'oh, there you two are'. Nothing too complicated about it, I'm afraid."

Ron looked at her, baffled. Hermione chuckled.

"But you know, Ronald. We've decided that you're to take the rest of the evening off. Both you and Hermione."

"What?" exclaimed Ron, narrowing his eyes. "And who's 'we'?"

"Oh, let me see, Padma, Parvati, Neville," she started, counting her fingers as she recited the names of _all_ their colleagues. "…Suzan, Terry and me."

"So, everybody," said Hermione, rolling her eyes. She could have just said 'everybody'.

"Well, yes."

"What is this, some kind of mutiny?" asked Ron, irritated.

"Oh no, we wouldn't dream of it, Ronald," said Luna seriously, as if Ron meant what he had said. "Hermione's only got a few hours until the virus could kick in…"

"It won't," growled Ron.

Hermione stifled a giggle despite her own growing fears. Ron sounded like a lioness protecting her cubs.

"Just being honest, Ronald."

"Sorry," he muttered.

"I think we'll take you up on that offer, Luna," said Hermione.

"What! I haven't agreed to any of this."

"I'm not giving you a choice, Ron. You need to take a breather. Come on," she said, holding onto his forearm and leading him down the hallway.

She turned her head around and mouthed a 'thank you,' to Luna.

Luna gave her a dreamy smile and nodded.

"But what are we going to do?" protested Ron as she dragged him towards the Gryffindor common room.

"First thing we're going to do is dry up."

"Password," said the Fat Lady, lazily, as they approached the portrait.

"U-No-Poo," replied Hermione. "Honestly, Ron, that's an awful password."

"The twins rather liked it when I told them."

"They would."

"They've been so serious lately, it's scary. It's good to make them laugh."

Hermione bit her lip, trying to imagine the twins without the mischievous glint in their eyes. She shuddered.

"You alright?" asked Ron as they walked into Ron's dormitory.

"Yeah, just a bit cold."

Ron waved his wand and Hermione's clothes instantly felt dry and warm.

Hermione smiled. "Thanks," she said as she wrapped her arms around his waist and rested her chin against his chest, her face directed upwards so she could examine his face.

"Well, you just wasted the spell, leaning against me," he said lightly. "You're all wet again."

Hermione cast the spell on both of them before moving away and sitting on Ron's bed, her back against the headboard.

She noticed a few books peeking from underneath the bed. She bent over and pulled out the book at the top of the stack, _Healing Spells of the Twentieth Century_.

"So, this is how you've been learning about healing?" said Hermione.

Ron sat on the bed next to her and looked down at the book. He swung his legs onto the bed and drew them to his chest, resting his chin on his knees.

"Yeah, been doing a lot of reading," he said, shrugging his shoulders.

"And you learnt all that healing knowledge from books?" she asked, impressed.

"I had no other options. I knew it could be done," he said, giving her a pointed look.

Hermione smiled.

"But they're not always effective," he said in a choked voice. "So many people have died."

Hermione rolled over, got onto her knees and knelt in front of Ron.

"You have got to stop blaming yourself for everything that ever goes wrong, Ron!" Hermione exclaimed.

Ron drew his knees closer to his body and tried to ignore Hermione.

"I've only been here for a few days and I can already tell that you've accomplished what most would think impossible."

Hermione grabbed a hold of his ankles and pulled them away from his thighs, flattening his legs against the bed.

"What are you doing?" asked Ron, alarmed.

"You are such an idiot sometimes, Ron." She was now straddling Ron, with her knees on either side of his thighs.

Ron was blushing too furiously to react to her accusation.

"And you know exactly what I mean, Ron! You're always thinking the worst of yourself. You're always thinking everyone else is better than you are. But you're wrong."

Hermione didn't wait for him to reply. She leaned forward and claimed his lips with her own. At first, Ron didn't respond, too shocked by her forwardness.

Hermione didn't care if she was being bold. She was sick of being shy and bashful. Ron needed some cheering up—he needed it badly. And so did she.

Finally breaking through his initial shock, Ron gripped the sides of Hermione's waist as he deepened the kiss.

With her body firmly pressed against his chest, she could feel his heart beating frantically.

They broke apart for a moment. Ron looked at Hermione. His cheeks were still flushed "I don't deserve you," he whispered as he rubbed his thumb against her cheek.

Hermione sighed. Did he not listen to anything she had just said? "You're the only man I want, Ron. Haven't you figured that out yet?"

She kissed him behind his left ear.

Ron moved his hands behind her neck as he bent forward and started kissing her along her collarbone.

Hermione giggled as she felt his hands fluttering at the back of her neck as they went higher, into her hair.

"You're ticklish," he whispered

"You knew that," she said as he lowered his hands back to her neck and tickled her lightly. "Don't do that Ron!" she said through giggles.

Ron smirked and for the first time since she was back, he seemed to be at ease. He brought his hands to her sides and tickled her mercilessly.

"Ron, stop it, you bloody git," she screamed as she toppled onto the bed, her back against the sheets.

"And she swears!" exclaimed Ron as he rolled on top of her and muffled her giggles with his lips.

Hermione clasped her hands together behind his neck and forgot about her impending fate.

x

Hermione woke up with her head nuzzled against Ron's bare chest. She closed her eyes for a moment and felt her cheeks redden. She bit her lip and smiled softly, feeling slightly giddy.

Then she moved back a bit in the small, four-poster bed and propped up her head with her arm, admiring the sleeping man lying beside her. While he didn't seem entirely peaceful, he did not have a disturbed expression on his face.

She sighed as she gently moved some hair away from his face. She wondered how long it would take him to recover from the events of the last month or if he ever would.

She glanced at the clock. It was half past four in the morning. Suddenly, Hermione's heart started beating faster as she realized that she was half an hour away from finding out if the vaccine worked.

Hermione looked back at Ron and traced her finger along his jawline. If she was going to fall ill in thirty minutes, she was glad she spent her last few hours with Ron.

She kissed him lightly on the forehead before getting dressed.

She was standing beside the bed, pulling her hair into a bun when the door swung open.

"Hermione, I wanted to…" Ginny started before her words trailed off. She glanced at her brother nestled within the sheets of his bed and then at Hermione fixing her hair.

Hermione blushed deeply as her own eyes fell on Ron.

"Ginny…"

"I-I, um, yeah, I'll be outside…" she stuttered as she rushed out of the room.

Hermione ran out after her. Ginny was standing at the top of the staircase, with her back against the banister. The tips of her ears were red.

Ginny looked at Hermione. "Did you really…oh Merlin, what am I saying, I don't want to know, don't tell me…"

Hermione flushed as she averted her eyes.

"You did," gasped Ginny.

Hermione approached the railing and leaned over it. She fixed her eyes on the empty fireplace in the common room below them.

"If he weren't my brother I'd want to know all the…but…" She shuddered. "Don't you dare say a thing…I don't want to hear anything."

Hermione chuckled quietly and looked at her best girlfriend. "I won't."

"Good," she said, firmly.

Hermione's eyes glistened with a mixture of contentment and fear.

"But I'm so glad you two have figured it out," she said, smiling. "You have figured it out, right?"

"I think so," said Hermione.

"I came looking for you because I wanted to apologize…"

"You don't have say anything, Ginny. We were both frustrated."

"So you went out to Hogsmeade?"

Hermione's eyes darkened. "Yeah," she said sadly. "It was awful."

"I know."

"And Ron told me about…about Damien."

"You have no idea how attached they became, Hermione. It was devastating to watch Ron lose him. And he keeps blaming himself for every single death."

Hermione sighed.

"But so many people were injured, Hermione. And yeah, some of them died but he saved so many others. Now they've all gone to stay with family or friends. He made that possible for them. But he doesn't see that."

Hermione nodded sadly.

Suddenly, Ron came crashing through the door leading to his dormitory. His frantic eyes settled on Hermione before he let out a sigh of relief.

"I thought, Merlin Hermione, you weren't there and I thought…I don't know…I just…"

"You aren't rid of me just yet," said Hermione lightly as she approached him and wrapped her arms around his waist.

Ron held her close and gave her a peck on the lips. "Don't joke about that, Hermione."

Ginny coughed loudly.

Ron looked up quickly. "Oh, Gin, hi." He said, his ears reddening.

Ginny smiled. "Hey bro. Had a good sleep?"

Hermione's eyes widened. Ginny was certainly bold. Ron went beet red and muttered something incoherent.

Hermione glared at Ginny and she laughed softly.

The three of them leaned against the banister and the light atmosphere suddenly diminished as all three of them thought about the virus and the potential vaccine.

Ron linked his hand with Hermione's hand. Ginny placed a hand on her shoulder and gave her a reassuring smile. Hermione felt so protected flanked by the two youngest Weasleys.

And together they waited.

* * *

**A/N: **I find it hard to bring fluff after so much angst, because the two are polar opposites. That's one of the reasons I wrote solely from Hermione's POV. Ron's POV would have been too complicated because he has the more conflicting and angsty thoughts to deal with. But I thought these two needed some fluff. Next chapter, enter Harry.

You know what's funny, in my original version of this fic, the five days passed and Harry was back within the first chapter. Thankfully, much has improved since. Thanks to all my wonderful reviewers!

And to my anonymous reviewers:

**Ash:** Thank you so much for the comments! It was hard to write. I really wanted to bring in Ginny's POV to Ron's situation.

**MT: **Thanks for the review! More plot progression next chapter :D.

**Danny:** Thanks so much! Wow, you've recced my fic, is so happy. What is the 'CM'?


	12. Going Beyond These Walls

**Disclaimer: **The amazing J.K.R created the world of Harry Potter and we just play in it

FF dot net is messing up again and not sending out alerts, blah. Let me know if you got my review replies, because the site might be messing those up too. A huge thanks to everyone who has reviewed! I really enjoyed all of them.

**Chapter 11**

**Going Beyond These Walls**

Harry paced the length of the main dungeon with Hermione's note clutched tightly in his hand.

He kept looking up at the clock. The minute hand seemed to tantalize Harry as it rested less than a millimeter away from the number 12. It was almost five o'clock. According to Hermione's letter, she'd left the dungeon five days earlier, at five in the morning.

Harry kicked at the wall and flopped into a nearby chair. When he'd found the letter, sitting innocently on the desk five days ago he had fumed with anger—anger that seemed to rival the rage he felt after Cedric's death.

How dare she leave him locked away in a dungeon like a criminal while she risked her own wellbeing?

Although he understood Hermione's logic in her decision, that didn't stop him from cursing her for risking herself for his sake and leaving him in the dungeon while a war raged beyond these walls.

But after five days of solitude the anger seemed to dissipate, leaving him with a dreadful sense of fear that gripped him as he sat in the chair, his eyes trained on the door.

What if she didn't come? What if the vaccine didn't work and Hermione fell ill? He thought about life without his book-loving, bossy friend as tears ran down his face.

"Oh, get a grip," he hissed, wiping away his tears roughly. Hermione was too smart to fail.

But what would he find on the other side of the wall? Would everybody be all right? Would Ron and Ginny be all right? He shook his head, trying to ignore the icy grip that seemed to seize his heart.

The clock chimed softly as the minute hand finally moved to '12'. Harry jumped out of the chair and stood in front of the door.

"Please," he whispered. "Please." He closed his eyes and kept muttering under his breath—pleading for Hermione to come barging through that door.

Minutes passed.

Nothing happened.

More minutes passed.

Harry let out a frustrated holler and threw a chair against the wall violently. It snapped into two pieces.

His hands shook as he reached for another chair.

"Harry?"

He whirled around at the familiar voice.

Hermione was standing in the doorway, her hand clenched around the doorknob.

"Hermione," he gasped as he ran forward and flung his arms around her and held her tightly. He usually wasn't the hugging type but his sense of relief was overwhelming.

"Shit, Hermione, I thought I might go crazy."

"I can see," said Hermione as she motioned to the broken chair. Her voice was shaky.

"You all right?"

"Huh? Yeah, I'm just…just so relieved. I was…so scared."

Harry nodded and squeezed her again before letting her go. "I was so worried."

"Worried enough to not be angry?" she asked tentatively.

Harry chuckled softly. "Well now that I know you're all right…"

"Please Harry, I didn't want to, I really didn't but—"

"Doesn't matter Hermione. Yeah, I was mad. But that doesn't really matter anymore. You're okay and the vaccine works!"

"Yes," she said brightly, striding over to the covered cauldron. "You've got to take some before we leave the dungeon."

Harry eyed the open doorway cautiously as Hermione dipped a ladle into the cauldron.

"What…what is it like out there? Ron, Ginny…"

Hermione didn't look at him as she handed him a goblet.

"Hermione?" he begged. "What happened?" Why wouldn't she look at him?

"Drink the potion, Harry."

"Damn it, Hermione, don't you dare leave me in the dark!" he snapped.

"Ron and Ginny are fine. Now drink."

Harry let out a deep sigh of relief. No matter how bad things were out there, as long as he had Ron, Hermione and Ginny, he knew he could face it.

Hermione sat down as he gulped down the foul tasting potion.

"What else? Where are they? What about the others? The Order?" He had a million questions.

"They're waiting upstairs for you, come on," said Hermione, jumping out of her seat.

"Who's waiting?"

"Ron and Ginny, of course. Some others might have gathered up there too. Can't really keep you a secret."

"Ron and Ginny are here? What are they doing at Hogwarts?"

"They stayed at Hogwarts. So did some others—DA members. Taking care of the sick."

"But what about St. Mungos?"

"Do you want me to just leave you here, then?" asked Hermione.

Harry shook his head, wondering why he hadn't bolted out the moment the potion traveled down his esophagus.

Hermione walked a few steps ahead of him. He could hear faint chatter drifting down the stairs that led to the main floor.

A small gathering of DA members greeted him as he finally stepped onto the main floor of the castle.

"Harry, my man," exclaimed Terry, slapping him on the back. "Nice to see you again."

Harry nodded absently. His eyes roamed the small crowd for red hair.

He caught a glimpse of the familiar ginger hair as Ginny pushed passed Parvati and Padma.

"Harry," she whispered, her eyes watering.

And for the second time in less than ten minutes Harry found his arms wrapped around a woman.

Ginny buried her face in the crook of his shoulder.

His finger rubbed gently against her cheek. He found it hard to refrain from latching his lips to hers.

Ginny pulled away slowly and smiled at him. "Welcome back," she said softly as she ran her hand through his hair. Harry sighed and leaned into the touch before he regained his composure and stepped away.

"Thanks," he said, lamely.

Ginny frowned. Harry averted his eyes.

"Good to see you again, Harry," said Neville, who was standing near Ginny.

Harry smiled, grateful for the distraction.

Soon he found himself immersed amongst his former classmates.

He looked around for Ron. The tall redhead was leaning against a wall, just behind the crowd.

Harry pushed his way passed everyone, stopping occasionally to greet others.

"Thought I'd give everyone a chance to say hi," said Ron, shrugging his shoulders and giving Harry the faintest of smiles.

Harry shuddered involuntarily. Ron had dark circles under his eyes and he was very pale. He looked very tired. Tired and haunted.

Ron moved away from the wall and the two men hugged. Harry always thought it would be awkward to hug Ron. Their relationship, while very strong had never been tactile and yet they embraced each other with ease.

Harry had missed Ron the most. In the last two years, Ron and Hermione had been with him through everything. They were constants in his life. So spending over a month without seeing his best friend really threw him off balance.

"I half expected you to come charging out here, brandishing your wand and yelling at everyone," said Ron as they pulled apart.

"I thought about it," admitted Harry. "But I don't have the energy."

Ron nodded. Hermione and Ginny joined them as the rest of the people quickly dispersed back to their duties.

"So, fill me in," said Harry as the four friends walked away from the dungeon entrance.

Ginny glanced over at Hermione quickly. "There's a lot to tell, Harry. Why don't you come with me and I'll fill you in while I get started on some potions."

"Potions? Great, more bloody potions," joked Harry as Ginny grabbed his arm and dragged him towards her makeshift lab.

x

Hermione smiled as the two 'ex' lovers disappeared around a corner.

She looked over at Ron and linked her arm with his. "I'm so glad to see Harry again."

"Yeah," agreed Ron. He was looking off in the distance as if his mind wasn't really there. "It's been so odd without the both of you."

"Well, we're here now," she said adamantly as she leaned her head against his upper arm.

Ron's body tensed. "Yeah," he murmured.

Hermione's heart constricted. Ron seemed to be distancing himself from her yet again. She wanted to scream. What was she doing wrong?

"I'm going to start working on an antidote. I have the preliminary plans worked out. I guess it's back to the dungeon for me."

Ron seemed to snap out of his daze at these words.

"Back to the dungeon?" he said, slightly alarmed.

"Not permanently. All the best equipment and supplies are down there but I won't have to sleep there or anything," she explained, blushing faintly.

Ron looked away.

"Is something wrong, Ron?"

"No, nothing. But I'd better get going. I've been neglectful long enough."

Hermione stood there, stunned, as he hurried down the hallway. She leaned against the wall, trying desperately not to cry. She no longer understood Ron.

x

Ron as sat beside Malfoy's bed, portioning out different potions. He tried to keep his mind occupied. He didn't want to think about last night.

He let out a frustrated sigh. Of course he wanted to think about last night. He was just so confused. How did he go from telling her what happened while they were separated to making love? He sucked in some air, unable to comprehend everything.

He was soon distracted from his thoughts as Malfoy stirred in the bed.

"What…where…Weasley?" He tried to push himself into a sitting position.

"Don't bother moving, Malfoy."

"Weasley."

"We've already established that."

He narrowed his eyes. "Why am I here? Why are you—"

"Let's get one thing straight, Malfoy. I'll be asking all the questions—"

"Why you little—"

"I wouldn't take that tone with the person who decides if you stay or get tossed out with the rest of the garbage."

Malfoy scowled. "And why is it that you decide?"

"Like I said, I do the asking. Who did this to you?"

Malfoy laughed. "Who did this to me? Who do you think, idiot?"

Ron raised an eyebrow.

Malfoy sighed. "The Dark Lord, death eaters."

"Why?"

"Why? Let me see. I don't know…because I couldn't…didn't kill that bloody fool."

"Don't you dare insult Dumbledore in front of me," hissed Ron.

"Or what?"

"Honestly, Malfoy. I might have been full of empty threats in school but right now, you're at my mercy and I'm not feeling entirely merciful."

Malfoy clenched his jaw and glared at Ron.

"Dumbledore's death was over a year ago. Are you telling me that they kept you alive for that long?"

He shook his head. "I went into hiding. I was discovered a few weeks ago."

"So they tortured you and tossed you into a ditch without killing you?"

"No, they must have thought I was dead. I…I nearly was. And knowing Crabbe and Goyle, they can't tell the difference from nearly dead and dead."

Ron blenched. "Crabbe and Goyle from school?"

Malfoy closed his eyes.

Ron felt an inkling of sympathy for the bastard. He couldn't imagine his best friends turning on him in such a manner.

Malfoy was now staring at Ron. "I don't need your sympathy, Weasley."

Ron recomposed himself. "I wasn't giving any." Ron got up to leave.

"The door will be locked. I'll come back when it's time for your potions."

"What day is it?"

Ron considered just leaving without answering his question but his unwanted empathy got the better of him.

"Thursday, July 23th, 1998."

Malfoy's eyes widened.

"What is it? Does something suddenly hurt? I gave you some painkilling potions to dull the pain." Ron bit his lip. Why did he care?

"They think I'm dead."

Ron rolled his eyes. "So?"

"They said things in front of me. Information that they wouldn't want in the wrong hands. They think I'm dead."

Ron stepped away from the door.

"What do you know," he demanded.

"I'm not to sure I'm willing to say anything," he said, smiling evilly.

Somehow, Ron knew that he only said that to try to cling to some semblance of his former self.

"You keep forgetting, Malfoy. Your life is in my hand. I decide if you stay. I'm the only one here with enough knowledge to help you heal…"

"I doubt that."

"Thanks to your Dark Lord's virus, most of the qualified healers are unavailable," Ron retorted bitterly. "What do you know?"

Malfoy lay in his bed, silent for a few minutes.

"The Dark Lord wants the wizardry world in constant chaos. That's why he killed Diggory."

Ron clenched the back of the chair tightly. Voldemort had Diggory, the acting Minister of Magic, killed, forcing his own dad to accept the post.

"Apparently there's a meeting taking place at the Ministry on July 24th…"

Ron tried to regulate his breathing. "How would they know that?"

"There's a snitch."

"Who?"

"I don't know. Stop interrupting. They've planned an attack on that meeting. They plan to kill the Minister."

"Dad…" he whispered. His body was trembling. He knew this would happen. He knew it! "I have to go."

"Wait," said Malfoy, grabbing Ron's shirt, weakly. "There's something else."

"What?"

"Snape…"

"I don't have time for this," snapped Ron.

"You've got to help him. I heard them talking about him. He's underground, in Lydford Castle in Devonshire."

"That's not my concern!"

"Not your concern? He's risked everything for the likes of you. He's more than given up his life, reputation and respect to help your bloody cause! You bloody well make him your concern," yelled Malfoy.

Ron pulled away from the man's grasp and stormed out of the room, remembering to lock it.

He couldn't think about Snape. He had to warn his father.

He barged into the nearest room with a fireplace and summoned some floo powder before creating a fire.

"Minister of Magic's office," he said as he threw the powder into the hearth.

Suddenly a plush and spacious office appeared in the flames. His father was bent over a large table, frantically writing.

"Dad," called Ron.

Arthur looked up in surprise. "Ron?"

"Dad, thank Merlin."

"What is it son?" asked the older man, worriedly.

"You have a meeting tomorrow?"

"Yes, yes I do, a rather large one, actually. How did you know that?"

"There's a snitch, Dad, an informant for Voldemort." It had been nearly ten months since Ron started calling Voldemort by his name.

"What? How…but how do you know this? Who?"

"I don't know who, Dad. I just know that they're planning to attack during the meeting…they're planning…to…to…kill you," he said as he tried to control his tremors.

Arthur nodded his head slowly. Within a few weeks, his father seemed to have aged a few years.

"Don't worry, son. I'll be fine. Now that we know, we'll be prepared."

Ron shook his head. "How do you know? What are you going to do?"

"The Order will help us, son. Don't worry."

"Don't worry! Of course I'm worrying! Why did you take the stupid job in the first place?"

"Ron, please, we've been over this."

"I'm coming, for tomorrow…"

"No you're not."

"You can't stop me, Dad."

"Don't disobey me, son. Please. You are needed at Hogwarts."

"I'm here, while people are out there dying!"

"You've done more for our community than most of the people I work with, Ron. So, don't go telling me that you're not doing anything. I'll be fine."

Ron slumped against a wall, dejectedly.

"Now tell me, how did you come by this information?"

x

Harry opened to the door to his old dormitory, feeling an odd sense of nostalgia. The things Ginny told him left him feeling numb. He didn't want to open the door and find beds missing. He didn't want to go into the room without expecting Ron, Dean, Seamus and Neville to be there, getting ready for bed.

"Hey Ron," he said as he finally stepped into the room.

Ron was sitting cross-legged on his bed, reading a large textbook.

"Going to bed?" asked Ron as he closed the book and tucked it underneath his bed.

"Yeah. I was wondering about sleeping arrangements." He shifted his feet uncomfortably. "It's only for tonight."

"What? What do you mean?" Ron asked, alarmed.

"Well," he started. "I've decided to meet up with Remus…get involved with the Order. And there's still one Horcrux to destroy before Voldemort." He looked at Ron cautiously.

"Then I'm coming with you," declared Ron.

"No, Ron."

"This isn't any different from last time, Harry. I'm coming."

"It is entirely different now. You have responsibilities now. You can't just leave them. People depend on you."

Ron looked away. "I think I might be going mad in here, Harry," he said, almost silently.

Ginny had told him about the attack at Hogsmeade and Damien and all the wounded but he didn't want to broach the topic in case Ron reacted badly to the discussion.

"Ron…"

"Forget it, Harry." He shook his head. "You're right, I have responsibilities here," he said dejectedly. "But what if something happens to you? I don't think I could handle…"

"I won't be alone, Ron. I'll stay with Remus."

"Promise?"

Harry looked away.

"Harry," said Ron, warningly.

"Promise."

Ron nodded. "You'll check in, won't you, through floo?"

"Of course. I don't plan on going months without seeing you again."

Ron smiled sadly. "It's been awful without you around."

Harry flopped onto the foot-end of the bed and nodded. "It's been terrible, really."

Ron stood up and summoned some blankets. "I'll take the floor tonight, then."

"No, you don't have to, I can find some place else…I mean, if Hermione's going to be here, then maybe I can take her bed for—"

Ron dropped the blankets and frowned at Harry. "What are you talking about?"

"Um, just, well, I know that you two are…"

"What has Ginny told you?" asked Ron in a hitched voice.

Harry squirmed. "That last night…"

"Oh for Merlin's sake, she had not right telling you…I can't believe Hermione told her. It isn't right, she's my bloody sister!"

Harry chuckled uncomfortably. "Remind me not to tell you when Ginny and I—"

Ron glared at Harry. "You haven't?" he hissed dangerously.

Harry flushed. "No, no, Ron, seriously…"

"Good, because if you did…"

Harry rolled his eyes. "Why did I fall for a girl with _six_ older brothers?"

Ron relaxed a bit and started setting out the blankets on the floor.

"But honestly Ron, I'm your best mate, so what if I know. I mean, I'm a bit surprised at how fast you guys took it but really, you've both been dancing around it for _years_."

Ron visibly tensed. "I'm surprised at how fast things went too," he said quietly.

"What do you mean?"

Ron shrugged his shoulders. "Forget it."

"No Ron, what are you talking about?"

"It's nothing, Harry, drop it."

Harry narrowed his eyes suspiciously. "Where's Hermione anyway? You two aren't fighting again, are you?"

Ron crawled into the makeshift bed. "I don't know, Harry."

Harry let out an exasperated sigh. "Ron, you have got to stop pissing her off."

"I don't think she knows me anymore. I don't even know myself anymore," he said sadly.

Harry shifted uncomfortably. "What do you mean?"

Ron shook his head. "I have no idea, Harry."

Harry stared at the ceiling. Maybe he shouldn't leave just yet.

"Don't leave without saying goodbye," muttered Ron in a sleepy voice.

Harry nodded even though Ron had already shut his eyes. He had to go. He'd spent over a month doing nothing. He couldn't stay in Hogwarts any longer.

He just hoped Ron would be all right.

He noticed the book Ron was reading peeking out from underneath the bed as he reached over to place his glasses on the nightstand.

He picked up the book, squinting to make out the title under the waning moonlight.

"_A Magical Exploration of Castles in England_," read Harry, furrowing his brow in confusion.

What would Ron want with a book on castles?

* * *

**A/N: **Sorry for the long wait between updates. I've been sick for sometime and buried in midterms. And when you don't write for a long time, everything feels sort of rusty. This chapter turned out to be a plot driver in some ways. We might be into some action in the near future. Let me know what you think.

And to my anonymous reviewers:

**katerina**: I agree, it wasn't meant to be pure fluff, just fluff-like, lol. Thanks for the great review!

**BDP**: I'm so slow, I've heard of checkmateddotcom and failed to relate it to CM, lol. Thanks so much! I've never been recced before. Is it in the forums? (sorry, if I'm being annoying, lol, just so happy).

**danny**: Thanks for the review :D. Yeah, I was looking for the rec but I couldn't find it.


	13. A Matter of Urgency

**Disclaimer: **The amazing J.K.R created the world of Harry Potter and we just play in it

A huge thanks to everyone who has reviewed! I know Ron is being rather angsty lately but give him time, he'll come around.

**Chapter 12**

**A Matter of Urgency**

Ron felt Hermione's shoulder brush past his upper arm as they both entered the staffroom. Hermione tilted her head towards him without smiling.

She pulled out a long piece of parchment and placed it on the table. "These are the instructions for the vaccine. And here's a list of things I need for the antidote," she said as she placed another piece of parchment on the table.

Ron picked up the list of ingredients and scanned them over quickly, trying to ignore Hermione's icy glare.

"Fine," he said finally.

Hermione nodded curtly. "I'll be in the dungeon if you need me."

Ron tried to speak. He wanted to hold her tightly and bury his face in her mass of hair. But he couldn't. There was something about that night that didn't sit right with him. And he couldn't bring himself to confront Hermione.

He was stupid, really, to think that he was the right person for Hermione. She deserved so much better.

Hermione was wrong. He was a different person. He didn't even feel like whole person—he killed a man, he let people die…he let a child he loved die. His emotions were all over the place. Sometimes he felt overwhelmed with emotions and other times he felt totally void of any feeling. Maybe he truly was going mad.

Hermione might have loved the boy he used to be, but she only pitied the person he was now.

He shook his head. He had to stop thinking about her if he was going to function properly.

His fingers itched for the floo powder sitting on the mantel. Harry had left just an hour earlier and headed straight for the Ministry, to ward off the pending attack.

Ron just wanted to contact his father and see if everyone was all right. He glanced at the clock. They were probably in the middle of the meeting. There wasn't any use in interrupting them. For all he knew, they were all in the midst of a heated battle.

He clenched his jaw tightly and rubbed his temple. He should be there. Instead, he sat down and flattened Hermione's parchments against the table.

Fifteen minutes had passed. He had magically duplicated the instructions for the vaccine numerous times, one for the Order, one for the British Ministry and the others addressed to a different foreign ministries. He would have to send them through the Order. Owls were no longer reliable. They were easily intercepted.

Ron knew that a vaccine existed before Hermione came through with hers. Voldemort wasn't a pureblood—he _needed_ a vaccine. The hypocritical bastard was just using the virus to eliminate the enemy and continue the propaganda that gripped his followers. But the longer Voldemort remained unaware that they had discovered the vaccine the better.

He turned to the other piece of parchment and started jotting down notes beside each item on the list—notes on whether Hogwarts had the ingredient and how much, and if not, how he'd go about obtaining it.

He slammed his quill on the table, unable to concentrate on the task as he thought about the Ministry. Someone was going to try to assassinate his father. He clenched his fist. When had things gone so terribly out of control?

He couldn't wait any longer. He grabbed a handful of floo powder.

Before he could start a fire, Hannah Abbott came through the door. Ron spun around.

"Oh there you are Ron. I was just coming to check the map for you. Professor McGonagall is here."

"What?" said Ron, surprised.

"Yeah, and she wants to see you. She asked for you to meet her in her office."

Ron glanced back at the fireplace. He sighed and released the floo powder back into its container.

"All right then," said Ron.

x

"Ah, Mr. Weasley. Please come in. Take a seat."

Ron sat down, albeit reluctantly.

"Sorry Professor but I just wanted to contact the Ministry, see if—"

"Yes, yes, of course. You want to know if your father is all right. Well, not to worry, he's just fine."

Ron stared at her. "How do you know?"

"I was at the meeting."

Minerva watched as Ron's body relaxed slightly.

"Oh."

"Yes, your father asked that I let you know. He's going to speak with you tonight from the Burrow. He's a bit preoccupied with captured Death Eaters right now."

"But he's all right?"

"Besides being a little worse for wear, he's fine, Mr. Weasley."

"And Harry?"

"He's fine. He's being briefed at the Order Headquarters. He seems to have adjusted well after being confined to the dungeons for such an extended period."

Ron's eyes wandered to the window. "I wouldn't know. He was only here for a day," he said, sounding slightly bitter.

Minerva sighed quietly as she examined her former student. The boy looked completely knackered.

"How about Miss Granger? She really came through."

Ron tensed. "Yes she did. She's working on an antidote now."

"Perfect," said Minerva.

Ron nodded and an uncomfortable silence fell between the headmistress and the young man.

"I've heard that you've been taking good care of the school," said Minerva, finally breaking the silence.

Ron shrugged.

"Indeed, the boy is an exceptional leader. A rather impressive young lad, indeed," said a female voice.

Both Ron and Minerva looked up at the sound in surprise.

A portrait of a woman with long silver ringlets smiled down at Ron. "Dilys Derwent," introduced the portrait. "And you must be Ronald Weasley."

Ron gaped at the portrait.

"Dilys was headmistress of Hogwarts in the eighteenth century," explained Minerva. "She was also a renowned healer." She wondered how the former headmistress had come to know about Ron.

"But how, I mean, I don't come to this office…how would you know me?" He sounded flabbergasted.

"Don't look so surprised, young man. The portraits talk. We're frequently visited by others who inform us of the happenings in the school," explained a red-nosed old man from another portrait.

"That irritating Gryffindor ghost was going on about you the other day. Couldn't get him to shut up," said Phineas Black, who glared at Ron with irritation.

Ron scanned the portraits before his eyes settled on a familiar face.

The portrait of Albus Dumbledore smiled reassuringly at Ron. "Minerva has good judgment, Mr. Weasley."

McGonagall tried to hide her guilt as she looked up at Albus's portrait.

In all honesty, Minerva was surprised at how well the youngest Weasley handled the school, especially given the adverse situations.

She had been so desperate for someone to take charge of the castle in her absence. Hermione would have been her ideal choice.

But with no available adults and both Hermione and Harry in confinement, she was forced to hand over the responsibilities to Ron—a boy who had never taken his prefect duties seriously.

Then over the course of her travels, she heard rumours of the Minister's youngest son taking in the wounded and ill and turning the school into a makeshift hospital.

And now, with the reception the former headmasters and mistresses gave Ron…well, the boy had certainly disproved her doubts.

"I agree. You made an excellent choice, Minerva," said Dilys. "And the things I've heard about his healing abilities." She shook her head in amazed disbelief. "And he does not have any training."

x

Ron shook his head slowly as the portraits praised him. He turned away and walked up to the window, his cheeks flushed. Didn't they know? Hadn't they heard of all the people who died under his watch?

He stared out into the endless landscape beyond the small, enclosed window. Suddenly, he felt terribly claustrophobic. He clenched the edge of the windowsill, trying to regulate his breathing. What the hell was wrong with him?

"Are you all right?" asked his former professor.

"Fine," he said hoarsely. He kept looking out the window, staring longingly at the Quidditch pitch. Those lazy days spent in the pitch seemed to be from another life.

"Malfoy is here," he said softly.

"Yes, your father told me as much. He was the informant."

"I didn't tell my father everything Malfoy said. I didn't…I didn't want to burden him. I mean, someone was trying to assassinate him." His voice shook as he thought about the attempt on his father's life.

"What do you mean?" McGonagall's voice sounded suddenly tense.

"He said…he believes that Snape is still alive."

Ron heard McGonagall suck in some air.

"Apparently, he's being held in Devonshire, in a muggle castle tower, Lydford castle."

"Dear Merlin," muttered McGonagall. "Poor Severus."

"You'll have to send someone for him now if you want him back," he said, nonchalantly.

"Yes, the longer he's there the less of a chance he has. But the Order is short staffed. We cannot spare one person," she said sadly. "If he's been kept alive for a month now, there's a chance that he'll be alive when we finally have the opportunity to send someone."

Ron shook his head. Why did he care? This was Snape they were discussing. When did he start caring about that slimy git?

"No, it's now or never." He turned around and sat down in front of his former professor.

McGonagall looked at him with surprise. "Why would you say that?"

"Think about it, professor. How many Death Eaters do you think _he_ has? Not a substantial number, I suspect. There are only so many purebloods and I doubt that there are many non-purebloods in the Death Eater ranks. Voldemort and Snape are special exceptions."

"True, but I don't see what this has to do with rescuing Severus?"

"So, I'd say that Voldemort has about the same manpower as we do."

"Probably."

"Which means Voldemort can't afford too many people guarding Snape. There's probably only two death eaters at the castle."

McGonagall gave Ron a quizzical look, as she tried to follow his train of thought.

"But that doesn't explain your supposed urgency."

"So, if you don't have the manpower, how do you secure a high-risk prisoner?"

"Wards and enchantments, perhaps" said the professor.

"And location," said Ron.

McGonagall raised an eyebrow. "Well, yes, and location."

"He's been there for a month and no one has gone looking for him. Location is the best security measure. If no one knows where he is, there's no risk."

"Very true."

"But if they get wind that the location is no longer a secret, than they'll change locations or kill him."

Ron was now leaning forward in his chair, his mind racing with thoughts.

McGonagall's eyes widened with realization. "And when _he_ realizes that the Ministry attack was deliberately foiled…"

"Voldemort will realize that we have an informant and after some investigation, he will find out that Malfoy may not be dead…"

"And he'll know that Malfoy knows Snape's location."

Ron nodded. "Exactly. So if we wait, Snape won't be at that castle."

McGonagall closed her eyes. "You have really thought this out."

Ron shrugged his shoulders. "I figure that we have about a day or two before Voldemort suspects anything. Luckily we don't have the Daily Prophet around to let everything out immediately."

"Yes, yes," started the professor. "Poor Severus." She paused. "He might have vital information. If we lose this chance…"

Ron wondered why Voldemort kept Snape alive. After all, he'd been the one to lead them to the Horcruxes. Ron shuddered. If _he _knew only one Horcrux remained, what would stop him from making more?

"Well, this is a predicament," muttered the old woman, snapping Ron out of his thoughts.

She was tapping her fingers against the desk.

Ron nodded mutely, trying not to make any suggestions he would later regret. Slouching back in the seat, he decided to keep his mouth shut as he thought about the things he had to do here.

McGonagall looked at him intently. "Unless…there's an Order meeting in two days."

"We'd lose our chance by then."

"Yes, but what I was saying is that I'm staying at Hogwarts until then. I'm an old woman, Mr. Weasley. I would go after Severus myself in my younger days."

Ron nearly laughed at the thought of his former professor executing a breakout.

"But if I'm here, then maybe…"

Ron's heart started to beat faster. This is what he wanted, right? To get out of the castle, just for a couple of days. Yet, he didn't jump into the silence. What was wrong with him?

"I wouldn't want to hand over the authority to anyone else, so given that I'll be here for two days, I wouldn't have to."

Ron nodded slowly.

"Of everyone here, you and Hermione have the most experience with—"

"Hermione is working on an antidote," Ron said abruptly. He didn't want her in any danger.

"Yes, that's true. Who else then?"

"The staffing situation here is very tight, Professor."

"Yes, well, there's no way around it, I'm not sending you alone."

He could handle it, he thought crossly.

"Well then, Mr. Longbottom, Miss Weasley and Miss Lovegood are all good candidates."

Suddenly, Ron felt panicked. He didn't want any of them put in danger, especially his sister.

"Ginny is in charge of potions. Nobody else could learn the details of the job in time."

McGonagall sighed. "And Mr. Longbottom and Miss Lovegood?"

Ron closed his eyes. "Neville is in charge of the greenhouses." Had he just condemned Luna to a dangerous job?

"That settles it then." She lifted her wand. Ron knew that she was going to make a public announcement, calling for Luna to come to her office.

"Wait, she's in the Charms classroom. I'll floo her," said Ron quickly.

McGonagall looked at him skeptically. "You know exactly where she is?"

"If she's following the schedule, yes. And Luna always follows the schedule."

McGonagall looked impressed. "All right, then, call her."

x

Luna sat in a chair next to Ron, listening to McGonagall intently.

"Well, Miss Lovegood? Do you accept."

Luna nodded solemnly. "I do accept, professor."

"Then it's settled." She leaned forward and stared at them. "I expect you both back in two days. Ron, I will be gone by Monday and the school needs you. So don't go and get yourselves killed."

"Oh indeed, that really isn't the goal, now is it?" said Luna airily, as she twirled her corkscrew earring.

McGonagall raised an eyebrow. "Indeed."

"Will we be telling the others?" asked Ron.

"I don't think so. The less who know, the better at this point."

"Well, people will miss Ronald," said Luna. "Everyone's taking orders from him…and Hermione and Ginny…"

"I'll deal with their questions after you leave," replied the headmistress.

Ron nodded nervously. He could only imagine the sort of anger he would have to deal with when he got back. But he didn't want to face his sister or Hermione just then. He didn't want anyone to talk him out of this.

He still couldn't understand why he was risking his wellbeing for his hated former professor. Maybe Snape was just an excuse to get out of the castle for a spell. But deep down, he knew there was more to it than that.

"Right, well, here's the name and password for the Order's Devonshire storehouse. Memorize it and burn it. You'll find some useful equipment there. Mostly your brothers' products, Mr. Weasley."

Ron nodded, taking the piece of parchment. Luna leaned over to read it. She smiled and nodded and Ron burned the parchment.

McGonagall pulled out a small pocketbook, titled _Apparating away from Muggles: An Atlas of Designated Apparition Points _and pushed it across the desk.

Luna skimmed through the book. "The closest designated apparition point to Lydford is Willsworthy ford in Willsworthy." She handed to book to Ron so that he could see the apparition coordinates.

"You know, blibbering humdingers are attracted to shallow waters. We might see some at the ford, Ronald."

Ron blinked as he looked at the map. Lydford was near Ottery St. Catchpole. Ron suddenly felt very homesick.

McGonagall placed some funny looking pieces of paper in front of the two students.

"What's this?" asked Ron.

"Muggle money. They're called pounds. Take a room at an inn in Willsworthy while you're there."

Ron shook his head. "I can't take your money."

"Don't be silly, Mr. Weasley. This is Order money. Now, you two had better get going so you can make it to Willsworthy by nightfall."

McGonagall looked at them worriedly as they shuffled out of their seats.

Ron bit his lip, feeling uneasy. He pulled out the parchments Hermione had given him earlier and the parchments he had drawn up.

"These have to be sent out and these have to be collected for Hermione," he explained, pointing at the appropriate parchments as he spoke.

The Headmistress nodded. "Be safe."

"It's the best state to be in," said Luna, nodding. "So, naturally, that's what we'll strive for, professor."

* * *

**A/N:** So a bit of set-me-up chapter but it had to happen. As for Ron/Hermione and Ron in general…it will get better guys, I promise. He's got lots of things to work through but the next time Ron and Hermione see each other, they'll start on the right track, promise. I hope you guys will stick around for it.

You know, I tried to get Ron on this mission by himself but it just wouldn't happen…I mean, who sends someone on a breakout by themselves? You must always have someone at your back. And then Luna kept coming in as the partner even though I'm scared to write her because she's so unique and I'm scared I won't do her justice.

I felt Ron needed to leave Hogwarts for a spell, if anything, so that he'll appreciate the things he and his friends have done within the castle.

Thanks for all the reviews! I love them to bits :D.

**To my anonymous reviewers:**

**sparkle1234:** Aww, thanks so much!

**danny: **Yeah, Ron's a real mess but he'll get there!


	14. Stakeout

**Disclaimer: **The amazing J.K.R created the world of Harry Potter and we just play in it

I dedicate this chapter to **eckles** for all the help he's given me with this story. I'm really grateful!

A huge thanks to everyone who reviewed! I loved them!

**IMPORTANT NOTE: **I really want to reply to all of you but it's the middle of exams and I shouldn't even be writing this but I'm a procrastinator. I'm done exams on Thursday night and I'm leaving for vacation to Singapore on Saturday, so hopefully I'll have the next chapter up by Friday or Saturday morning along with review replies to all my reviewers.

This was originally a longer chapter but it started getting so long that I had to split it up.

_**A note on magical transportation:** We know lots about magical transportation through the books but not everything, so I had to make up some extra rules about it. Here are my extra rules for my story:_

_**Apparation**: (1) You can only apparate to places you've been to before unless you know the exact coordinates of a designated apparation point determined by the ministry (which was in the book McGonagall gave them in the last chapter) That's why they can apparate to Willsworthy ford without ever being there before but not to Lydford Castle. (2) Along-side apparation with a grown person is harder and more risky than with a child or a very small person._

_**Portkeys**: (1) Only ministry-approved personnel can make portkeys. An additional requirement for making a portkey destined for Hogwarts is headmaster/mistress approval. After McGonagall put Ron in charge of Hogwarts, he was given both approvals (ministry and headmistress). Only McGonagall, Ron and Arthur (the Minister) can make portkeys to Hogwarts. (2) You can make portkeys that are password triggered so that they can be handled before being put into use.

* * *

_

**Chapter 13**

**Stakeout**

Ron caught his knapsack as he stumbled forward, almost falling into the shallow waters of the ford.

"It's nearly nightfall," said Luna, appearing beside him with a soft 'pop'. She stared up at the moon glistening in the darkening sky with large dreamy eyes.

Ron pulled a small book out of his bag and flipped through to the last few pages. "It says that there's an inn just up ahead. About a fifteen minute walk, I reckon."

Ron and Luna walked in silence. Ron sucked in the fresh air. Finally, he was out of the confining castle walls of the school. Ron shook his head. Merlin, he hoped everything was all right at Hogwarts. Ron laughed bitterly. That castle truly had a grip on him.

"What's so funny?" asked Luna.

"Oh nothing, just thought of something funny," lied Ron.

"No you didn't. Sounded like a bitter laugh to me."

Ron didn't say anything. Why was she so frank?

"Besides, none of us have laughed out of the blue lately."

He tipped his head upwards, allowing the moonlight to bath his face. "There hasn't been much to laugh about lately."

"No there hasn't."

Ron jerked his head down.

"But eventually, it'll return," said Luna, smiling. "After all, you do have a very nice laugh."

Ron's face flushed. He didn't know what to say.

"Oh look, I see the inn," said Luna, pointing ahead.

"Willsworthy Inn," read Ron as they quickly approached the old building.

A bell rang loudly as they pushed passed the door. Conversation died as the people who sat scattered around the shabby pub looked up at the newcomers.

A few of the patrons glared at the teenagers while others stared curiously.

Luna moved closer to Ron and whispered into his ear. "Not very welcoming."

"Small village," murmured Ron. "Probably don't see many strangers."

"What do you want," said a small man, gruffly. He leaned against the bar and scowled at the witch and wizard.

"The sign in the front says that this is an inn. So naturally, we'd like a room," said Luna bluntly.

Ron groaned. Patronizing the innkeeper wasn't going to get them anywhere.

"Oh, so we think we're smart, do we, lassie?"

"Oh no, sir. I was just answering your question," replied Luna, unfazed.

"Well young lady, why exactly should I give a room to you?"

Ron was getting impatient. "Because that's the point of this place, isn't it?" snapped Ron before silently scolding himself for losing his temper.

Luna tried not to giggle.

"Oh you think I'm funny, do ya?"

"Oh no, not at all sir. I think he's funny, actually," said Luna, jerking her head towards Ron.

Ron muttered under his breath before addressing the innkeeper again. "Listen. Can you just give us a room?"

"And what business do you two have in Willsworthy?"

"Oh give the kids a break, Johnny," called out one of the patrons.

"Shut it, David. Now, again, why are you in Willsworthy?"

"We're just passing through and needed a rest," said Ron.

"Is that so?"

"Yes," said Luna. "And we thought we'd check out some churches. We love old churches. Don't we, Ralphy. There's one in Lydford, right?"

Ron closed his eyes. Why did she have to mention Lydford?

The conversations around them suddenly died again.

Ron shifted uncomfortably.

"You step foot in Lydford and ain't coming back here. I'll be watching you," the man hissed while pointing to his eyes.

"Why?" asked Ron, startled, his stomach turning. He hoped the Death Eaters hadn't done anything to the village. "What's wrong with Lydford?"

The whole pub stared at them disbelievingly.

"Don't you watch the tele?" asked a short, pudgy man, sitting at the far end of the bar.

"No," said Ron, feeling even more uncomfortable. Sending two clueless purebloods to a muggle area wasn't the best idea.

"The radio?"

Luna shook her head.

"The papers, at least?"

Ron bit his lip. "Been busy."

"Kids these days. Honestly think they've got no use for current affairs until it gets them into a pickle," said an old man.

The innkeeper walked behind the bar and pulled out a key. "Don't go near Lydford," he said warningly as he handed the key to Luna. "That'll be 30 quid."

Ron looked at him blankly. "Quid?"

"Did you expect me to let you stay for free, lad?"

Ron pulled out the funny bills McGonagall had given him. What was a quid?

"Well, hand it over," said the man, tapping his fingers on the counter impatiently.

Ron picked out a bill that had '£10' written on it and another with '£20' written on it.

The man quickly snatched the bills out of his hand. "Up those stairs and to the right."

They turned towards the stairs. "What the hell is a quid? McGonagall called muggle money pounds, not quids," muttered Ron.

"Maybe McGonagall was mistaken," suggested Luna. She gasped as someone grabbed her arm roughly.

"Hey, what the hell do you think you're doing," exclaimed Ron as he pulled Luna away from the stranger's grasp.

"You had better stay away from Lydford."

"We got the memo. So unless you're willing to tell us why, we'll be on our way," snapped Ron as he held onto Luna protectively.

"Because there's no one in Lydford right now."

"Why?" asked Luna in a hushed voice.

"They're all ill."

Ron groaned softly before letting a string of obscenities escape his mouth.

The man raised an eyebrow. "You all right there, kid?"

"Yeah, fine. What are they ill with?"

"No one knows. Some virus. It's been all over the news, cases all over England. But none hit as bad as Lydford. The whole village, all 400 or so, is under quarantine at Plymouth hospital."

Luna's looked away sadly.

"Everyone here's been careful to stay away. If you two go into Lydford, you could bring the sickness back here and infect the entire place. Ever since people in Lydford started getting sick, we haven't seen many visitors in this area."

"That's why we got such a cold reception," said Luna.

"Yeah, but Johnny's always been the unfriendly sort."

"The perfect innkeeper," muttered Ron, sarcastically.

"Well, thank you for the information," said Luna, patting the man's hand. "You've been ever so helpful."

Ron closed the door to their room firmly behind them and locked it. He took out his wand and added a precautionary locking charm on the door.

"Just in case the innkeeper tries to take a peek. Let him think we have a chair lodged under the doorknob or something," he said as Luna dropped their knapsacks on the twin-sized bed.

"Why did you mention Lydford?" asked Ron as he pulled the curtains tightly together.

"In case they had something to tell us. And they sure did, didn't they Ronald?"

Ron sighed and flopped into the ratty armchair in the corner of the room. "I guess that confirms that there is some magical activity in Lydford. The bleeding Death Eaters must have spread the virus to the villagers."

"Well, it's good that we've taken the vaccine. At least we don't have to worry about exposing these muggles to the virus."

Ron nodded before leaning his head back against the armchair. "The place is probably password protected. They have to change guards sometime. We'll have to sneak in with them."

Luna started unpacking their bags—none which contained clothes. Ron's bag was mostly filled with healing supplies.

Snape was probably badly injured and magically transporting severely wounded patients long distance was risky. Ron figured that he'd bring him to the inn and do as much as he could for the man before attempting to transport him to Hogwarts.

Luna's bag held the supplies they had gathered from the Order's Devon storehouse.

Ron got out of the chair and knelt beside Luna. She pulled off her corkscrew earrings and held them out for him.

"What's this for?" asked Ron.

"You said you wanted to make a portkey."

"You want me to use your earrings?"

"If you make two, we can each have one in case we get separated and if I wear an earring, I won't lose it. You can keep yours in your pocket."

Ron nodded. He figured that the best way to travel back to the inn from the castle would be through a portkey. Ron had never apparated alongside a grown man and he wasn't about to test that skill just yet.

Ron laid the earrings down and concentrated on his surroundings. "_Portus_," muttered Ron as he pointed his wand at the corkscrew.

After making the portkeys, he pocketed one and handed the other to Luna.

"Just say 'inn' to trigger the portkey," instructed Ron.

Luna nodded as she hooked the earring into her ear. She dug into her jean pocket and pulled out a multicoloured beaded earring for her other ear.

Ron took his knapsack over to the tattered desk and started arranging his supplies. He didn't really know what he would expect so he'd brought a bit of everything.

Luna tapped him on the shoulder. "Ready to go?" she asked, with her repacked bag slung over her shoulder.

Ron scanned his healing supplies before nodding. "See you at the ford," he said before disapparating out of the room.

xxx

Ron and Luna cast a disillusionment charm before trudging through the shallow waters of the ford. They walked in near silence before catching sight of the stone tower.

Ron pointed at a large cluster of trees. "Let's see if we'll have a good view from there."

They made their way through to the centre of the cluster and crouched down. They were only metres away from the castle now.

"Pretty good view from here," commented Luna, softly, as she pulled her knapsack off her shoulder.

"We're probably inside the apparition boundaries," said Ron.

"Let's find out." Luna pulled out a small silver ball, placed it before them, and tapped it lightly with her wand.

Nothing happened.

Ron rummaged through the bag and pulled out two pairs of shaded glasses. "We need to wear these."

"Right."

As Ron slid the glasses on, a transparent purple dome appeared, encompassing the two teenagers and the castle tower.

"It's purple," said Ron, with surprise.

"Well, if red represents apparition boundaries and blue represents portkey boundaries, then purple must mean both," reasoned Luna.

"Makes sense," said Ron as he pulled off the glasses and shoved them into his jacket pocket. Fred and George were truly ingenious. "So we have to get passed the boundary before using the portkeys."

That wasn't going to be easy after they got a hold of Snape.

Luna leaned against a tree trunk. "We just have to wait for them to change guards."

"I guess the wards work in our favour right now. This way we'll see them walking up to the castle."

"Oh right," said Luna as she dug into the bag again. "Here." She held out another pair of glasses. These glasses had larger lenses and less tint.

Ron fiddled with his pair. He looked at Luna and saw an outline of her figure, in shades of browns—an exact camouflage of the tree trunk she leaned against.

He put on the glasses and looked at her again. Suddenly, she was no longer camouflaged. But she wasn't back to her normal appearance either. Instead, she was just an orangey red, featureless figure, sitting beside him.

"Amazing," said Luna as she stared at Ron through her glasses. "It's a good thing your brothers are on our side of this war," she said with a chuckle as she adjusted the glasses. "Can you image how useful these tools would be in the hands of the Death Eaters?"

Ron shuddered. For one thing, Ron and Luna wouldn't be able to hid under the disillusionment charm or Harry's invisibility cloak that Ron had brought if the Death Eaters had these glasses.

The glasses detected body heat. Thus, with the glasses, they could see people no matter how dark it was or what concealments people used.

"All we can do now is wait," he said as he settled down beside her and trained his eyes on the path leading up to the only castle entrance.

Luna brought out some chocolate frogs. "Here," she said. "I know there're you're favourite."

"Where did you get these?" he asked, astonished. He hadn't had one of those in months. All the stores selling them had closed up during the height of the war.

"I've had them for awhile now. Never got around to eating them."

Ron shook his head. "If you've been saving them…"

"Don't be silly. I wasn't saving them."

Ron gave into his stomach's urge for the sweet. He unwrapped the chocolate slowly. "Thanks Luna."

Ron held the chocolate frog tightly to prevent it from jumping. He sighed sadly, as he looked down at the sweet. He refocused his eyes on the path before taking a bite. Usually, he'd swallow the whole thing in one go but he wanted to savour the treat.

Memories of happier days flashed through his mind. He recalled the lazy evenings that he spent with Harry and Hermione in the common room, stuffing himself with sweets from Honeydukes. He sighed, knowing that he'd never get those precious days back.

"Are you all right, Ronald?" asked Luna.

"Uh? Oh yeah, fine."

"You know, I used to have crush on you," she said, entirely out of nowhere.

Ron nearly choked on the piece of chocolate he was chewing. "W-what?"

"Oh, yes, which was rather silly of me, after all, you were a bit mean."

Ron slowly swallowed the chocolate as he reminded himself to keep his eyes on the path.

"Um, uh." He could feel his face heating up. "I'm sorry if I was mean," he said, almost meekly.

Luna patted him on his hand that rested on the ground beside her. "Well, you're not mean anymore."

"So why did you like me? I mean, I was mean to you and all," he asked softly. He blinked quickly, surprised that he wasn't too flustered.

"I don't know, really. Maybe your humour."

Ron sighed. No wonder she didn't like him anymore.

"Oh, you're still very likable, Ronald. Do have any idea how many girls like your type?"

"And what _type_ is that?" he asked, uncomfortably. He was glad that she couldn't see him blush.

"Hmm, the man who can take charge of a messy situation is always appealing—the strong, leader type. And not to mention girls who fancy the brooding sort."

Ron gagged. Why would anybody be attracted to someone engulfed in depressing and painful memories. He banged his head against the tree trunk. And when did he become that person?

"Why is hades would anyone—"

"Some girls like something they can fix, someone vulnerable."

"So suddenly, I'm strong _but _vulnerable, I'm the leader sort _but _I need fixing? That's just mad."

"No, just complicated. Some girls like that too," she added in an amused voice. She clearly enjoyed confusing him.

"_Girls_ are complicated," he muttered.

Luna chuckled softly.

Ron wondered what type of bloke Hermione fancied. She'd fancied him in school and he definitely wasn't the 'brooding' sort then. Did she want to fix him now? Ron scowled.

"I had to outgrow the crush," said Luna unexpectedly. "Because you're clearly in love with only one person."

Ron bit his bottom lip. Love certainly hadn't made things clear between Hermione and him.

"Oh dear, I think we've got company," said Luna just as the corner of Ron's eye caught a glimpse of orange.

Ron's heart started beating faster. A tall figure was striding towards the castle while another, shorter figure emerged from the castle and headed towards the approaching man.

Ron grabbed the knapsack and pulled out Harry's cloak. He slung the bag over his shoulder before draping the cloak over them. They stood up and Ron wrapped his arm around Luna's waist in order to ensure that they were fully covered by the magical material.

Luna muttered a silencing charm around the cloak so that no one would hear any ruffling before carefully making their way to the man headed for the castle entrance.

"Here goes nothing," muttered Ron as they took off their glasses and fell into stride behind the man.

* * *

**A/N:** This story is moving at a slower pace than I first anticipated. I know there was a lot of explanation of gadgets and such but I didn't think things would make sense without a few Weasley products to assist them. Let me know what you think. What did you think of Ron and Luna in this chapter? Next chapter, we'll finally see Snape; and Hermione should be back in the story. You guys are the best! Weasleygirl-ca. 


	15. Ron’s Patronus

**Disclaimer: **J.K.R. created the wonderful world of Harry Potter and is kind enough to let us play in it.

Thanks so very much to all my reviewers!

**Chapter 14: Ron's Patronus**

The tall, scruffy man that they were following stopped in front of the other Death Eater, who had just exited the tower.

"Anything new?" asked Scruffy.

The other man scoffed. "Obviously not. Had a bit of fun with Severus but nothing exciting."

"Never is," said Scruffy. "Well, see you later."

The departing man nodded as he unknowingly walked passed Ron and Luna. He turned around momentarily. The teenagers held their breathe even though they knew he couldn't hear them. The man shook his head and muttered something incoherent before continuing along the path.

Soon, they were again walking cautiously behind the tall man. He stopped at the door, held his wand up and muttered an incantation. The heavy door swung open.

Ron and Luna quickly shuffled in behind the Death Eater and followed him down a flight of stairs. They passed empty barred cells and crumbling walls before they stopped in front of a narrow door.

The Death Eater turned around and stared directly passed Ron and Luna. He flayed his hand around and nearly hit Ron. Luckily, they ducked just before the hand would have crashed into Ron's jaw.

"Fucking paranoid," swore the man as he turned back to the door. He knocked slowly three times.

A voice from inside the room answered. "Password?"

"Pureblood liberation."

"Pathetic," muttered Ron, bitterly. He wondered if these men even knew that their master was a halfblood.

The door opened just slightly, allowing the Death Eater to slip through before they slammed it shut quickly.

"Shit," cursed Ron. "Won't make it easy for us, will they."

"Well, we're obviously dealing with people with a higher brain capacity than Crabbe and Goyle," offered Luna.

"Let's hope they're only a bit smarter."

Ron scanned their surroundings.

"We could start a fire. That might lure them out," suggested Luna.

Ron remained silent, trying to come up with every possible scenario if they started a fire. Finally he nodded. "Sounds possible. Wait, didn't we grab a few of the fire-walker sweets at the storehouse?"

Luna smiled. "We did." She rummaged through their bag and pulled out two bright green sweets. "Here."

Ron quickly sucked on the hard sweet. "Let's hope this works."

Luna nodded and pointed her wand at the bottom of the door. "_Incendio_."

Flames quickly erupted from Luna's wand. They clung to the door and crackled violently. Ron ran his hand through the flames and didn't feel a thing. The twins had truly outdone themselves.

"What the hell?" exclaimed a man from inside the room.

The flames rose higher, licking against the door.

Scruffy flung the door open and gapped at the fire roaring at the threshold. Ron and Luna quickly slipped by the man. Luna's hair brushed passed the man's arm but he didn't seem to notice. He was too preoccupied by the fire.

"Well don't just stand there, you idiot. Put it out!" came a new voice from inside.

Scruffy fumbled with his wand and sent a jet of water blasting through the flames.

"How the hell did this happen?"

"Should probably investigate it," said the man sitting at a table, lazily. The man reminded Ron of Harry's uncle—wide and neck-less. "Reckon a pesky muggle followed you in and did this?"

"Doubt it. I didn't see anyone. And besides, no muggle would come near this village, what with the virus and all," replied Scruffy.

He shifted his feet uncomfortably. "This isn't good." He closed the charred door and stared at his partner. "What should we do?"

"Maybe he did it," said No-Neck, jerking his head towards the far end of the room. "He's done wandless magic before."

Ron gasped at the sight of his former professor. A bloodied and beaten Snape hung limply by his arms, which were chained to the wall, behind think iron bars. His head hung limply against his chest.

He looked worse off than Malfoy.

"He ain't even awake. Besides, he's too weak to perform any magic anymore. We made sure of that," reasoned Scruffy.

"Still, he could be pretending. He's a lot smarter than us."

"He ain't smarter than us," snapped Scruffy. "He's a pathetic excuse of a man. Filthy halfblood. Surprised the Dark Lord tolerated him for so long. We'll see if he's behind this."

Ron held his breath as the man strolled over the bars. Ron and Luna moved passed the table and positioned themselves beside the man staring through the bars.

"Oi, Sev, get up. _Rennervate_."

Snape pulled at his chains weakly as he tried to lift his head.

"What do you think you're playing at, you filthy piece of shit?" hollered No-Neck.

Snape tried to keep his head up and focus on his tormentors. His eyes unfocused and he dropped his head back into his chest as he wheezed painfully.

"Don't give me this bullshit. What the fuck did you do? Think you're smart, starting that fire?" snarled the tall man.

Snape pulled at his chains again, almost as if he was testing his strength.

"Speak up, halfblood!" He spat out the word as if it were an earwax-flavoured jellybean.

Snape remained silent.

"Why you…don't make me come in there and teach you a lesson in respect."

Silence.

"_Crucio_."

Both Ron and Luna flinched as Snape's body tensed. He screamed, though it didn't sound like a normal scream. His voice was low, scratchy and weak.

"Bastard can't even scream properly," said the tormenter as he lifted the curse.

"Now, Severus, did you start the fire."

Ron shook his head at their stupidity as they wasted their time interrogating a barely conscious man. Don't complain, thought Ron, this could work in their favour.

"He ain't gonna say anything 'cause he didn't do nothing. Weak, pathetic piece of crap is all he is."

"You don't know," said No-Neck.

Scruffy unlocked the cell door.

Ron's heart skipped a beat. This was their chance.

"Waste of time, is all," replied Scruffy, even as he approached the limp figure.

"Got to get up in his personal space to make him talk, y'know."

Scruffy left the door open as he stepped in. He pulled out a small knife and pushed his body up against Ron's former professor and whispered in the man's ear.

Snape tried to pull his head away from the Death Eater as the knife sliced through his cheek and up to his ear.

Ron felt sick. He looked at Luna. "How about I take this one?" he said, referring to the man with the knife. "You stay under the cloak until I'm inside and then attack the other one."

Luna nodded.

xxx

Hermione stalked up a flight of stairs towards the Gryffindor tower.

She grumbled to herself as the flight of stairs suddenly moved and swung over to another corridor.

She got off the last step. "You've got to be kidding me," she mumbled as she made her way down the hallway looking for another staircase that would lead her to her common room.

She had had such an infuriating day.

First, Harry left within twenty-four hours of leaving the dungeon.

Second, Hermione felt sure she was near creating a successful antidote but something was missing and she couldn't figure it out.

And of course, there was the little fact that even though Ron and her had confessed their love for each other and made love for the first time, they were still at odds with each other.

She groaned in frustration.

"It is not ladylike to make such obscene sounds."

Hermione spun around trying to find out where the voice had come from.

"Over here young lady. No to your left. A little higher. There you go."

Hermione glared at the portrait of a stuffy looking woman sitting regally on a velvet red armchair.

"So you must be the renowned Hermione Granger."

Hermione narrowed her eyes. "Excuse me?"

"You are the young lady who worked out a vaccine against that dreadful virus, are you not?"

Hermione nodded mutely.

"Well, for such an intelligent young lady, I would not expect such rude sounds from you."

Hermione rolled her eyes.

The woman leaned forward. "You know, I heard from Sir Batcher down on the second floor, who heard from Sir Nicolas's ghost, who heard from the Fat Lady, who heard from that portrait in the Gryffindor common room, her name escapes me, that…"

Hermione gaped at her. Was she ever going to get to the point?

"That you and that young Mr. Weasley are at odds again."

"Wha?" gasped Hermione, her eyes bulging.

"You two are constantly in a row, it's rather ridiculous. You've got to be a little more understanding."

Hermione's mind reeled. When had she become the topic of gossip?

"I'm the one who's not being understanding?" she exclaimed.

"If you want my opinion, you've conducted yourself dreadfully."

"Maybe I don't want your opinion," Hermione snapped.

"Well, I'm inclined to give it anyway. You have dismissed his anxiety about being different from the boy you knew before the war started."

Hermione waved her hand. "We all change, it's natural."

"For an intelligent witch, you're missing the point entirely."

Hermione grumbled. "What do you know, you're just a portrait.

"I know lot more than you, apparently. He needs you to acknowledge those changes and accept them, not sweep them under the carpet. You cannot just fix things with a few kisses and such," said the portrait as she raised an eyebrow knowingly.

Hermione's stomach clenched. Oh dear God, she thought, did the portraits know how far their relationship had gone?

Hermione opened her mouth to retort but nothing came out. She couldn't think of anything. Was there truth to the stuffy portrait's words?

She didn't get a chance to think it over.

"Hermione, finally, I found you. Have you seen Ron? I can't find him anywhere. He's not on the map…not even in Hogsmeade," exclaimed Ginny as she ran up the deviant flight of stairs. Her face was chalk-white.

xxx

Ron charged forward without another moments thought, breaking the silencing charm around the two teenagers. He was inside the cell before either wizard realized he was in the room.

He brandished his wand as he yelled, "_Expelliarmus!_"

Scruffy gasped as his wand came flying towards Ron. Ron grabbed the wand and snapped it in two.

"Why you—," started the startled man.

Snape lifted his head a bit, trying to see the newcomer through his curtain of hair.

Scruffy lunged forward, the knife raised above his head, threateningly.

Ron moved out of the way quickly. The man crashed into the metal bars painfully.

No-Neck mad a disgusting grunting noise as he pushed himself out of the chair and aimed his wand at Ron.

But he never got the chance. No-Neck's wand flew to the other side of the room. Then his huge body hurled to the wall and slammed against the stone with a loud thump. His limp body sank to the ground.

Ron gaped in awe. Luna, who was still under the cloak, hadn't said a word. She certainly mastered nonverbal magic.

His moment of distraction proved nearly fatal as the tall, scruffy man pounced on Ron and tackled him to the floor.

The knife dug into Ron's shoulder and the man dragged it down across his chest. Blood gushed from the long wound.

Ron gasped in pain as he tried to push the domineering man off his body.

Luna sent a jet of red light through the metal bars, aimed directly for Scruffy. Unfortunately, Ron picked that moment to muster all his strength and push the man away from him. The red light of the stunning spell just bounced off the wall behind them and disappeared.

Ron fumbled for his wand that had fallen to the ground in the tackle.

Scruffy also leaned forward to grab the wand before Ron. Ron kicked at the man's arm blindly.

Another jet of red light soared through the air and struck the scruffy man, causing him to go limp.

Luna rushed out from underneath the cloak and grabbed a hold of Ron.

"Are you all right?"

"You were amazing!" said Ron, in admiration.

Luna shrugged her shoulders. "I've always been good at nonverbal magic. Come on lets get out of here before they get up."

Ron nodded.

Luna lifted her want to the chains holding Snape to the wall and frowned.

"It's not working, the chains won't come off."

"K-kill them," said Snape, so hoarsely, Ron could barely understand him.

"They're no threat now," muttered Ron as he examined the chains.

"If we can't get him out of the chains, let's get the chains out of the wall," suggested Ron.

Luna built a shield around their former professor before Ron pointed his wand at the wall around the chains and yelled, "_Diffindo!_"

The stones around the chains started to separate and fall to the floor, revealing another room behind the stonewall.

The chains fell from the clutches of the stones, causing Snape's now unconscious body to collapse into a heap on top of the stones.

"_Mobilicorpus_," muttered Ron. Snape's body, his wrists still encompassed in loose chains, lifted in the air and floated to the right of Ron.

"Let's get out of here before these two idiots get up and inform anyone else," said Luna as she grabbed Harry's invisibility cloak and stuffed it into the bag.

The two teenagers and former professor made it back to the inn without any complications.

Ron laid the man into the bed and began stripping him of the shredded, filthy and blood-soaked robes.

"You should take a look at your own wound," commented Luna as she peeked out the window in their room.

Ron cast a temporary healing spell on his chest before busying himself with the more severely wounded man.

"Got to make him stable enough to transport him."

An hour passed.

Ron did nothing but attend to the tortured man.

Ron wiped the sweat off his forehead. Merlin, he was exhausted.

"I think it's safe to take him now," said Ron, tiredly.

"That's a good thing. I think we have company," whispered Luna as she looked out the window.

Ron approached the window and saw three men heading for the inn—one being Scruffy.

"Shit." Ron grabbed an empty bottle. "_Portus._"

"Come on Luna, we've got to take Snape back to the castle."

Luna nodded while grabbing Snape's hand and reaching for the portkey. Ron made a show of reaching for the bottle but curled his fingers away just before Luna latched her hand onto the portkey.

xxx

"How could you send them on some half-baked mission and not even tell us," exclaimed Ginny, not seeming to care that she was yelling at the Headmistress.

Hermione paced up and down the office angrily as Ginny yelled at the haggard witch.

"You do not need to be consulted for every Order mission, Miss Weasley."

"He's my brother! Hermione's…uh…Hermione's best friend, for Merlin's sake, you had no right to send him off and tell him not to tell us."

"He didn't want to tell either of you."

Hermione's body tensed. Unwanted tears sprang from her eyes. What if something happened to him?

"Of course he didn't want to, this is Ron we're talking about but that doesn't mean you keep this a secret. Ron's the boss here. You've been gone for over a month. He's the one who's kept this place together and you think it's okay to just send him off and not tell anyone?"

McGonagall sighed.

Everybody stopped speaking and pacing as they heard someone trying to get through to the headmistress's office.

"Professor, Hermione, Ginny…Luna's here and she's got Snape," Neville yelled from below.

Ginny shot a last glare at her professor and dashed out of the room, followed closely by Hermione and the headmistress.

"Where is he," cried Hermione as she saw Luna and a badly battered Snape lying on the floor of the Hospital wing.

"I don't know," said Luna, looking bewildered. "He was right behind me. He was reaching for the portkey when I was whisked here."

"But he's not here!" screamed Hermione, looking around hysterically.

Ginny shook Luna. "What happened?"

Hermione tuned out Luna's voice as she saw a silvery small dog run straight for her.

"Ron's patronus," murmured Hermione as the dog approached her.

* * *

**A/N: **Let me know what you think. Sorry that it's short. Action is not my forte. There's going to be more action later on in the story and it might be more intricate but action is so hard to write. And I'm leaving tomorrow for overseas and I haven't even packed properly…is a procrastinator in every sense. Not to mention, I've started a new fanfic. But I felt this is a good place to end the chapter. Just a bit of a cliffy ;). What _is_ Ron up too?

See you guys in the new year. I'll find myself an internet café in Asia to read any reviews that you might leave me, hint, hint :D. You guys are the best.

Happy Holidays, Merry Christmas, Happy Hanukah and a Happy New Year!

Weasleygirl-ca.

P.S. Thanks to **eckles** for the gossipy portraits idea :D.

**To my anonymous reviewers:**

**BDP**: Thanks! I'm glad Luna's all right, she's scary to write just because she's so cool in her bluntness and oddness.

**Danny**: Thanks for both your wonderful reviews! And thank you so much for mentioning the 'not making shagging the solution' part of my story. I was wondering how that would be taken. I'm glad you liked it. Yeah, I think Luna had a crush on Ron too and I can understand why, if he were real, I'd be head over heals, meanie or not, lol. I'm hopeless.

**Ash**: Wow, I'm flattered to hear that you like this story even though it doesn't have much Harry. Thanks!

**Hecate Triformis: **Aw, thanks :D. I hope you like this one.


	16. A Poisonous Grip

**Disclaimer: **J.K.R. created the wonderful world of Harry Potter and is kind enough to let us play in it.

Thanks so very much to everyone who reviewed! I truly appreciate it! I'm so sorry for the massive delay between updates. I went on my trip (which was amazing), got back and fell victim to writer's block. But finally, I've updated.

**Chapter 15: A Poisonous Grip**

The Jack Russell terrier trained his eyes on Hermione before turning to the professor. McGonagall nodded solemnly as the dog stared at the woman and Hermione realized that the patronus was relaying a message to the Headmistress telepathically.

"What is he saying?" demanded Hermione.

"Miss Granger, this is a private message," replied McGonagall, though reluctantly.

"Bullshit," snapped Ginny. "You tell us what he's saying RIGHT NOW!"

"Miss Weasley!"

"Oh don't give me this crap about watching my language," started Ginny.

"He stayed back purposely," stated Luna, breaking into the argument.

"What do you mean?" asked Hermione, desperately. "Why would he do that?"

"He made a show of reaching for the portkey but he didn't actually touch it, I realize that now."

"But why?" said Ginny.

"Everyone in Lydford has the virus because of exposure to the Death Eaters staying at the castle."

Ginny tapped her foot impatiently.

"The people of Willsworthy have stayed away in fear of spreading the virus to their town. If those Death Eaters were coming to the inn, the innkeeper is likely to come in contact with them and with him, the whole town will fall sick."

"Damn it," swore Ginny.

Hermione shook her head, feeling defeated. Why was this happening to her? Why were both Ron and Harry so pigheaded and impulsive?

"They're looking for Snape, so naturally, Ron made the portkey so I could take him back to the castle while he stayed back to get the innkeeper out," continued Luna.

"He could have sent Snape on his own, instead of trying to do this alone," said Ginny. Hermione could tell that the red haired girl was trembling with anger. After all, the same two boys that Hermione worried about were Ginny's brother and 'ex'-boyfriend.

"But an unconscious person cannot use a portkey by themselves," explained Luna.

Ginny swore profusely under her breath.

Hermione tried to calm herself down and think rationally. "All right, then we have to get to the inn."

"He's not at the inn," said McGonagall.

"Then where is he?" demanded Ginny.

"I can't say. But I will send somebody after him."

"NO!" yelled Hermione. "You will not send anyone. You will tell us what you know and _we_ will find Ron. I don't trust _your_ people."

McGonagall stared at Hermione, astounded. Hermione didn't even acknowledge the fact that she had just yelled at a respected authority figure.

"He sent me the message because he doesn't want the two of you involved," explained the haggard professor.

Ginny rolled her yes. "Stating the obvious," she muttered sarcastically.

Hermione turned to Ron's patronus. "You tell me Ron's message," she said in a deadly tone. Nothing happened.

"TELL ME!" she screamed, tears streaming down her checks as she lashed out at the dog. Her hand just went right through the patronus.

"Tell me," said Luna, softly.

The dog looked at Luna and after a moment, he nodded.

Hermione collapsed into the chair and started sobbing. "He'll tell her but not me," she cried.

Ginny knelt beside Hermione and rubbed her back as she watched the silent exchange between Luna and the terrier.

"He's badly injured. He can't apparate or make a portkey to get back," relayed Luna.

Hermione squeezed her eyes shut. "Where is he?"

"His patronus will take us to him," explained Luna.

"We can't very well follow it across England for Merlin's sake," exclaimed Ginny.

"We can take brooms to the gates and then apparate to Willsworthy Ford and follow him from there," said Luna.

"Fine, let's go," said Hermione, brushing her tears away, not caring that this involved more flying.

"You can't all just leave," said McGonagall. "Let me see if anyone is available in the Order."

Hermione laughed bitterly. "Do you think we have time to wait around for someone in the Order? We're going now."

"But the school, the patients, Severus."

"We shouldn't be gone long," said Luna, waving her hand in the air. "Besides, Professor Snape needs Ron, not any of us."

"You aren't all going, are you?"

"I am," chorused Hermione, Ginny and Luna in unison.

"I can't possible allow this," started McGonagall but the girls ignored her.

xxx

Ron pulled his hand away from the portkey and watched Luna and Snape disappear.

He knew he was being stupid. Even after a month of doing the responsible thing, he found himself throwing that newfound responsibility to the wind.

But he felt another kind of responsibility driving his actions. Or was it guilt?

Ron didn't have time to contemplate the inner workings of his mind. The people of Lydford fell ill because the Death Eaters using their village as a prison exposed someone to the Virus.

Muggles were victims to the wizardry world's war and they had no means of defending themselves—they didn't even know where the disease came from.

Ron couldn't just leave this town to the same fate—not if he could try to do something. It was after hours, so he only had to get the innkeeper away from the approaching Death Eaters. After all, it was his fault that they were approaching the inn in the first place.

Without another thought, he grabbed his knapsack, pushed passed the door and quietly made his way down the stairs leading to the pub.

The lone innkeeper was humming to himself as he wiped the counter with a washcloth. Ron crouched down on the stairwell and positioned his wand between two bars of the railing.

"_Stupefy_," he whispered. A ray of red light shot out from Ron's wand and traveled directly for the unsuspecting innkeeper. Ron waited until the man fell to the ground before approaching the unconscious man.

"Sorry," he whispered. He bent down and found an empty bottle that he could use as a portkey. As he directed his wand to the bottle, he felt a sudden shot of intense pain from his shoulder, running across his chest.

"Shit," he muttered as he clenched his chest painfully. He could feel warm blood seeping through his shirt and soaking his fingers. The temporary healing spell had worn off. He started to mutter the healing incantation again when he felt a rush of nausea. Ron cursed his body. He didn't have time for this. He had to get the innkeeper out of the inn.

xxx

Scruffy, more commonly known as Grayson, barged into the inn. The tidy pub was empty and nothing seemed out of place except for a washcloth and an empty beer bottle that lay deserted on the counter.

"They're somewhere in here," growled Grayson. "Becks, check the backrooms. Steffin and I will check the bedrooms."

Becks nodded and blasted the door leading to the basement while Grayson and Steffin stalked up the stairs to the rented rooms.

"They were in here," announced Grayson after entering the forth room. He picked up an empty potions bottle and held it up to his partner. "They were trying to heal the filthy halfblood. It'll take more than some potions to fix him," he said with a hint of satisfaction.

"Won't matter if we don't find him…the Dark Lord will have your head for this one," replied Steffin.

"We'll find them. Can't have gotten far," proclaimed Grayson as he smiled cruelly and stroked the blunt edge of his knife. "Not with that wound."

xxx

Ron leaned against the tree trunk, panting heavily. Stars seemed to dance in front of his eyes and his head would not stop spinning. He could barely lift his wand.

He hadn't had the strength to make a proper portkey. Instead, he was forced to use '_Mobilicorpus_' to move the innkeeper far enough from the inn and away from the Death Eaters.

He'd left the unconscious man by the side of a back road, down the hill behind the inn. Ron figured somebody driving by would find him or he'd wake up in a few hours and by that time, the Death Eaters would be gone…he hoped.

Ron had dragged himself back up the hill, trying to get as far away from the innkeeper as possible. He didn't want to pass out right next to the muggle for risk of being found by muggles and being asked questions he could not answer.

He was nearing the top of the hill when he was forced to collapse against a tree. Blood was running down his chest and abdomen and beginning to stain his trousers.

Suddenly, the detrimental nature of his situation became painfully clear. The knife wound across his chest was not a normal wound. The knife must have been poisoned. It was the only explanation for the _intense_ symptoms of pain, nausea and weakness Ron was feeling. He didn't know how long he could last without treating the wound. But he was too weak to make a faultless portkey or apparate without splinching.

His body begged for him to give up—to collapse and let it shut down permanently. Ron screwed his eyes shut as another wave of sharp pain and nausea swept over him. At that moment, the thought of just lying down and letting the poison take its course seemed very tempting.

"No," gasped Ron. He couldn't do that. He thought about Hermione—how badly he had left things between them. He thought about the school and the patients and even Malfoy and Snape. They needed him. He couldn't just abandon them now. Not after everything they'd been through. And McGonagall was leaving the next day. He had to get back.

With newfound determination, Ron lifted his wand and murmured, "_Expecto Patronum_."

xxx

"We've been searching for ages. They've obviously left," whined Becks as they finally left the inn, unsuccessfully.

Grayson's face no longer held the arrogant confidence he displayed a half hour ago. Instead, his hands trembled slightly as he thought of what the Dark Lord was going to do to him for letting the pathetic halfblood slip passed him.

"I'll be right back. I'm just going to check out back," said Grayson finally, before leaving his two companions and heading behind the inn.

Running was the first thought that came to his mind. He could leave the country. Better yet, he could leave the continent—find refuge in the Amazon if he had too—anything to stay away from the wrath of the Dark Lord.

But he knew it was useless. No matter how far he ran or how well he hid himself, _he_ would find him and _he_ would not grant him a merciful execution. He rubbed his neck uncomfortably. Shit. He didn't want to die. The stupid Weasley boy had ruined everything!

He walked up a hill as he contemplated his deadly situation. Suddenly red flashed before his wandering eyes and he inhaled some air as the object of his fury came into full view.

Unaware of the Death Eater's presence, Ron Weasley sat slumped against a tree trunk, breathing erratically and clenching his chest painfully. His hair clung to his face with sweat and his shirt and trousers seeped with bright red liquid.

Despite Grayson's pending doom, he could not help but feel satisfied at the sight of the teenage boy in such agonizing pain. He deserved more, thought the bitter Death Eater as he approached the boy.

"Look what I found," announced Grayson in a quiet yet sarcastic singsong voice, so only the blood traitor could hear him.

Ron's head snapped up, causing him to moan softly. It took the boy a moment to register the man's presence.

Grayson crouched down in front of Ron and grinned evilly, masking his growing fear of execution. Ron pushed himself further against the tree. He clenched his wand tightly and tried to lift his arm.

"Oh, I don't think so," Grayson said as he slipped the wand out of the boy's hand, who's grip was considerably weaker than their last encounter. He examined the wand carefully. "Ash…not the same as my wand but since you broke mine, this will have to do as a replacement."

He tucked the wand into his robe and smiled. "But I've always been more of a hands-on man myself." He brought out his knife and ran the blunt edge against Ron's cheek slowly. "Can you feel the poison working its way through your veins? Slow and painful."

Ron clenched his jaw and tried to move away from the domineering man.

"What, not talkative today? No matter. All you have to do is tell me where Snape is…or else you and my knife will have to get reacquainted."

Ron glared at the man. "You aren't getting anywhere near him again."

Grayson covered his disappointment quickly. Obviously this boy wasn't easily swayed. He moved the knife to the side of Ron's neck and turned it over so that the blade pressed against his skin, while pushing the heel of his palm against Ron's chest.

Ron's gasped in pain as the palm dug into his open wound.

Pressing his lips against Ron's ear, he whispered, "Or I could take you back to the Dark Lord. He might be upset to have lost his halfblood pet but I'm sure you'd make an excellent consolation prize—the Minister's youngest son and Harry Potter's best friend."

Ron recoiled, obviously disgusted by the lips and hot breath brushing against his ear.

True, the Dark Lord would be glad to have the boy within his grasp but that wouldn't deter him from punishing Grayson for Snape's escape. Of course, Ronald Weasley didn't know that. After all, he was an excellent bluff.

"Or maybe I'll keep you to myself. The halfblood was getting a bit boring anyway; you make a fresh substitute, blood traitor."

Ron tried desperately to push the man away again but the poison was taking its toll and Ron could barely lift his arms.

"Getting nervous, boy? Willing to give up the halfblood?"

"Never," rasped Ron.

He removed his hand from the younger man's chest and rubbed the blood against the boy's cheek before gripping the boy's red hair and violently yanking his head backwards.

"You fucking piece of shit, where is he?" he swore, his desperation finally cracking through his façade.

Despite the blatant pain Ron was experience, he managed to laugh hoarsely. "And here I thought you were on the top of your game." His voice was scratchy and sore, but his word cut through Grayson like his own poisonous knife.

"Why you," he hissed as he finally allowed the knife to break through the blood traitor's skin.

Ron gasped loudly before tears sprang from his eyes.

Suddenly Grayson felt the tip of a wand press against the back of his neck.

"Remove the knife," ordered a terrifyingly deadly voice. "Or I'll kill you."

Grayson didn't take the knife away from the boy. He knew the dagger wasn't cutting into any major arteries. After all, he had to keep his victim alive. Instead, he brought his free hand to the boy's upper arm and gripped it tightly, deciding to apparate away with the boy.

He never got the chance.

xxx

"_Diffindo_."

Hermione watched in horror as the man screamed in surprise and pain and stumbled backwards onto his backside, releasing his tight grip on Ron and dropping the knife. Blood surged from the deep incision at the side of Grayson's throat, which had obviously severed a major artery.

The man gripped the gushing wound as he fumbled in his robes for what Hermione assumed was his wand. She quickly directed her wand at the Death Eater and yelled, "_Stupefy!_"

The man fell limp, the wand just visible from the folds of his robes. That's Ron's wand, thought Hermione before grabbing it and stowing it away in her own robes.

"Oh God," she whispered as her eyes finally fell on Ron, tears instantly springing from her eyes. She had never witnessed a more petrifying scene. It was as if she was standing in front of a boggart. If only a simple '_Riddikulus_' could whisk away the scene and leave her with a unscathed Ron.

Instead, Ron was drenched in his own blood—his shirt, his trousers, his face, his neck—it was everywhere. His hair was plastered against his face with sweat and tears mingled with the blood smeared across his cheek. His body trembled violently and his breathing was painfully irregular.

She knelt before him and gathered him into her arms as she sobbed. "Oh God, Ron…Ron…" she cried as she brushed her fingers over his wounded neck.

"You came," he croaked.

"Of course I came," she whispered. "I…I…oh Ron…I have to get you out of here." Her hands trembled as she felt his burning skin.

"I thought…"

"Don't speak, Ron. Save…save your energy." It was hard to speak through the insistent sobs.

She didn't turn around as she heard Luna and Ginny running towards them and gasping at the sight of Ron.

Ginny ran towards her brother as Luna bent down beside the Death Eater to check his pulse.

"He's dead," announced Luna.

Hermione didn't care. She'd think about that later. All she could think then was Ron. "I'm taking him back."

Luna nodded, instantly forming a plan. "Ginny, you're the fastest flyer. Apparate back to the gates, fly to the castle and get the professor to make a portkey. I'll collect the two unconscious Death Eaters out front and take them to the Ministry for lock-up."

Ginny nodded and instantly disapparated.

Hermione tried to compose herself, knowing the risk associated with disapparating along-side a wounded man. She couldn't make a mistake. Taking a deep breath and trying to suppress her sobs, she wrapped her arms around the barely conscious Ron and disappeared.

* * *

**A/N: **I feel like the first bit is a bit rusty but I tried my best. I didn't mean for McGonagall to come out so irritating. She's just such a stickler for the rules. Ron was really put through the wringer in this one but my defense is: those who love Ron love to torture him, the poor boy! **Solstice Muse** is a prime example…Ron can't get a break in her stories and they're absolutely amazing or as Ron might say, bloody brilliant (though I suspect he wouldn't say that in these cases). All right, I'll stop rambling. Let me know what you think.

**To my anonymous reviewers:**

**BDP:** I know it's been so long! But I hope you enjoyed this chapter. Thanks so much for the review!

**Danny:** I'm glad you like the action…it's always the hardest (that and humour) for me. Thanks for the review!


	17. In Transition

**Disclaimer:** I don't own anything that JKR created.

Thanks to all my lovely reviewers! You're always appreciated!  
Many tears, some sentimental elements and emotionally charged. Not to mention, rather long. You've been warned ;).

**Chapter 16**

**In Transition**

Ginny stood at the gates of Hogwarts, her hand shielding her eyes from the rising sun as she scanned her surroundings. She had flown back to the castle and retrieved the portkey before returning to the gates. The only problem was that Hermione and Ron were nowhere in sight.

Horrible thoughts were racing through her mind. Maybe Hermione splinched them. Maybe she missed the gates by a few hundred miles. Maybe more Death Eaters had arrived and captured them.

At the sound of a faint 'pop', Ginny spun around so quickly, her broom, which was still gripped in her hand, knocked against the back of the apparator's knees, causing the person to fall backwards.

"Well, hello there Ginny…" started Luna before she registered Ginny's distraught expression. "Oh my, they haven't got back then?"

"No," she said hoarsely. "I think we should go back."

"One of us should wait here in case…" She paused and smiled slightly. "In case something like that happens."

"What?"

"That," she said, as she twirled her finger. "Turn around."

And then Ginny saw it. Bright red sparks sparkled in the distance, above the trees of the Forbidden Forest that lay outside the apparation boundaries of Hogwarts.

Ginny quickly swung her leg over her broom and pushed off from the ground.

xxx

"Stupid, stupid, stupid," muttered Hermione, as she sent sparks soaring into the sky. How could she have missed her mark? How could she have landed in the Forbidden Forest of all places?

Ron, still wrapped in Hermione's arm, slowly placed his hand on top of hers and tried to squeeze it reassuringly but he could barely get his fingers wrapped around her hand.

"Oh Ron, what have I done?" she sobbed.

"It's…all…right, Herm—it'll…it'll be fine…"

She hushed Ron. "Don't…you can hardly breathe properly."

She removed her robe, spread it on the ground and lay him gently into the material. Her hands shook as she ripped his shirt open. All she could see was red. Her head was spinning. She could not tear her eyes away from the gushing wound. Why couldn't she think?

"Just…breathe…," whispered Ron, his body shaking fiercely.

Hermione could hear the pain in his voice. Why was he the one telling her to breathe?

"It looks…it looks worse…than it is."

Hermione nearly laughed, or she would have if she didn't feel like nonexistent walls were closing in on her. Here Ron was, bleeding to death and telling _her_ to calm down.

But that was exactly what she needed to do. She had to store all her emotions and fears away if she wanted to help Ron.

She squeezed Ron's hand, before brushing away her tears and taking a deep breath.

She pointed her wand at his chest and said, "_Scourgify_."

All the blood painted across his chest and abdomen disappeared, revealing Ron's pale skin and a long, deep, gushing wound.

Ordering herself to remain calm, she held her wand over the wound and muttered a temporary healing spell, knowing that the wound had to be properly cleaned before it could be healed. A simple cleaning spell would not suffice. She repeated the incantation on the incision at the side of his neck before rummaging through Ron's racksack.

All the potion bottles were empty. She let out a frustrated sigh before sending up more wand sparks. She couldn't risk apparating again. She knew Ginny would come for them.

"Hermione…"

"Shh, Ron," she murmured as she swept his wet hair away from his burning forehead. "Don't—"

"No, Hermione…oh shit…do you…h-hear that?"

Hermione cocked her ear in the direction of Ron's horrified stare. That's when she heard it. Faint clicking sounds.

"What is that?" she asked, more bewildered than worried, as the sound did not sound entirely threatening.

She looked back at Ron and clasped his hand tightly. "Ron, what is it?" Just ten minutes ago, a Death Eater had held a knife to his throat and yet, it was now that a look of unadulterated terror graced his pained face.

"Ron?" She felt the emotions she had pushed aside resurfacing as Ron's erratic breathing became painfully short. "Ron, please…"

"Acro…Acro…"

"What?" Hermione's eyes widened as she realized what Ron meant. "Acromantula?"

Ron nodded mutely.

Hermione clenched her wand as her eyes darted around the trees, now illuminated by the rising sun. Suddenly huge, black, hairy creatures appeared out of the shadows, their clicking sounds no longer seeming harmless.

Hermione moved closer to Ron. She had only ever heard Ron and Harry's stories of the gigantic spiders that had tried to devour them back in their second year. Now that she was actually facing them, she could not imagine how a couple of twelve-year-old boys (one being arachnophobic) managed it. There were so many of them.

"_Arania Exumai!_" she yelled frantically at the oncoming spiders.

"HERMIONE! RON!"

Hermione's heart seemed to skip a beat at the sound of Ginny's voice.

"OVER HERE!" she screamed as she blasted a particularly massive acromantula from leeching itself onto her leg. "OVER HERE GINNY! HURRY PLEASE!"

Ginny dived between the trees. "Oh shit," she cursed as she hovered a few feet above the ground. "Hermione, I'm going to drop the…_Reducto_…portkey. Trigger's 'chocolate'."

Ginny's spell hit a spider that was about to sink its teeth into Ron's thigh. Hermione looked up just as Ginny released an empty inkbottle.

"I'll fly back," yelled Ginny as Hermione caught the portkey, grabbed Ron's unconscious form and murmured, "Chocolate."

xxx

Hermione dabbed the purple wound-cleaning potion into Ron's wounds as Ginny measured out a goblet of blood-replenishing potion.

"I don't understand; these wounds aren't infected, he shouldn't have such an awful fever," muttered Ginny as Hermione tilted Ron's head up so that Ginny could get the potion down his throat.

Hermione was still keeping her emotions at bay, determined to keep a clear mind until she was sure Ron was going to be all right.

The portkey had taken them straight to Ron's dormitory. Hermione had removed his blood-soaked trousers and hauled him into the bed. Within minutes, Ginny had barged into the room, her arms laden with potions.

"I've sealed the wounds but I think they're going to scar," muttered Hermione.

Ginny shrugged. "I don't know but I think it's a matter of practice and maybe something more. I'm rubbish at it but Ron's really good, never leaves so much as a faint line after they're fully healed. Here's some Murtlap essence for the wounds"

Hermione rubbed the yellow substance into the angry welts before placing bandages over them. "He's brilliant at the whole thing, isn't he?" She felt reassured that she wasn't the least bit upset that Ron had found something that she couldn't excel at. Rather, she was proud of him.

"At healing? Yeah, he's a natural."

Ginny was measuring out some potion to reduce his fever when Ron's body started convulsing violently.

"What's going on?" yelled Hermione, frenetically as she pushed her palms against Ron's shoulders.

"I've heard of this before," cried Ginny. "Where have I heard of this? One of the patients..."

"Hurry up, Ginny! Think!"

"I'll be back," said Ginny before she ran out of the room.

Hermione held Ron down as her mind ran through all the spells she could think of but nothing seemed useful. "I'm supposed to know what to do!" she cried, desperately. "Why don't I know?"

"I've got it," said Ginny, as she stood at the doorway, breathing heavily. "Ron's notes and the patient charts. There was this woman, knife wound to the thigh, same symptoms. Ron said something about poison."

"How did you fix her? Spell? Potion?"

"I don't know," she moaned. "Ron mentioned it in passing. Think it was a potion."

Hermione looked at her expectantly.

"Do you know how many potions I make? I don't know what they're all used for," she cried, indignantly. "But it'll be somewhere in here."

Ginny dropped the files in front of them and Hermione looked at them, aghast.

"He might be a brilliant healer, but he's rubbish at keeping organized notes," muttered Ginny as they stared at the hundreds of parchments, stacked together. "This could take for ever!"

"_Invenio _poison," muttered Hermione as she pointed her wand at the stack. Suddenly, parchments began to organize themselves into two piles. Hermione picked up the smaller pile. "All the parchments with 'poison' in them."

"What did you do?" asked Ginny, looking bewildered.

"A searching spell."

"Right," mumbled Ginny as she took a few of the parchments and started scanning them.

"Here it is," exclaimed Ginny. "_Creptio_ poison…causes seizure like convulsions, high fever, intense pain, trouble breathing…"

"Forget the symptoms, what do we do?"

"Here, Ron used these spells to temporary abate the seizures but if I don't make this antidotal potion soon, he'll…I'm—I'm going to get on that potion."

Hermione nodded mutely as she muttered the incantations over Ron's body. Suddenly Ron gasped loudly and his eyes fluttered open as he jerked into a sitting position.

"Ron!"

"Her—Hermione…where am…am I?"

"In your room, at Hogwarts."

Ron fell back into the bed.

"What…about…Snape?"

"He's all right for now, you did good patching him up. He can wait 'til you're better.

Ron squeezed his eyes shut. "I…I can't…breathe."

Hermione held back her tears and grasped Ron's hand. "Look at me Ron. Look at me!"

Ron reluctantly opened his eyes.

"Just breathe slowly, all right. Come on, in, now out, in, out, that's it."

Reluctant tears ran down Ron's cheeks and he tried to turn his face away from Hermione.

Hermione grabbed his chin and held his face in place. "Don't Ron. Don't be ashamed. I know it hurts."

Still, Ron lowered his eyes. "I…I don't…want you…to see me like this." His voice was barely a whisper.

"That's all a load of rubbish, Ron. I don't know if it's to protect me or to protect that stupid male ego of yours but I almost lost you today and you're still not out of the woods, so forgive me when I tell you that I'm sick and tired of you trying to hide everything from me. "

Ron tried to protest but Hermione just kept ranting.

"If something hurts, tell me. You're allowed to be vulnerable in front of me, Ron! I wouldn't think any less of you. If anything, I'll think more of you for letting me in. But every time you do, the next moment you've gone and shut yourself away again!"

Hermione was crying now. She brushed her tears away angrily. She was supposed to remain calm until Ron was all right.

"It's not that easy…bloody hell," he swore as he clenched his jaw.

"What is it?" she asked, frightened.

Ron shook his head as he shut his eyes tightly again.

"Tell me Ron, please."

Hermione's desperate voice seemed to break passed Ron's barrier. "It just…hurts, that's all," he said. "I'm…telling you...see," he said, trying to sound amused.

She frowned as she stroked the back of his hand. "I wish I could do something, but until the potion…"

"I know," he said through gritted teeth.

"Ok, let's play a game."

"A game?" he croaked.

She nodded, trying to think of something to distract him from the pain. "Favourite Quidditch player?"

"Not…Viktor bloody…Krum!"

Hermione chuckled. "All right, new game. Two truths and a lie."

"What's that?"

"I'll tell you three things about me, one of them is a lie, you've got to identify the lie. Okay, let's see, I've never got lower than an A or an E on anything."

Ron snorted softly. "You're making…this too easy."

Hermione smiled mischievously. "I never really like Viktor Krum, well, not that way."

Ron frowned.

"And I got talked down by a portrait today."

Ron furrowed her eyebrows. "Hmm…"

"Thought I'd make it easy, did you?"

"Did you…really…I mean…Vicky…"

"I'm not saying a word."

"Er, um, that last one…'bout the portrait?"

Hermione smiled. "Wrong."

Ron's face fell. "So…you really…did like…" He suddenly curled up slightly and groaned in pain. "Sorry…"

"Don't Ron."

He looked at her, apologetically.

Hermione brushed her fingers against his forehead, her eyes glistening with unshed tears. "I never liked Viktor, Ron. I was taken by him, yes but that's it…it was a first time a boy paid that kind of attention to me."

"I…"

"You were being a right sorry prat, Ron."

Ron smiled ruefully. "But if both of those are true…but that's…not possible."

"Forth year muggle school, I got a B+ in physical education."

"Physical education?"

"Umm, muggle version of flying lessons and Quidditch."

Ron laughed softly. "That's cheating, how am…I…supposed to…know about these…muggle things?"

"Not my fault. All right your turn."

"Wait…what's…this about a…portrait, then?"

"Nothing, really. Forget about it, I want to hear your three things."

Ron looked at her quizzically. "Um, er, okay…," he started before his eyes rolled back and he started convulsing again.

"Ron!" cried Hermione as she fumbled for her wand and muttered the spell again. Ron's body relaxed slowly as he struggled to breathe again.

"Hermione," he gasped.

"It's okay, Ron, just breathe, slowly."

"I've got it," exclaimed Ginny, as she came running into the room. "Oh, Ron, you're awake. Drink this, now."

Ron tried to take the goblet but his hands were still shaking.

"Here, let me," murmured Hermione. She lifted his head gently and tipped the rim of the cup against his lips. "Slowly Ron."

She watched him carefully as he swallowed the thick bitter liquid. "How do you feel?"

"The pain, it's…it's duller. And I feel kind of tired."

"It's the _sopohorous_ in the potion. You'll probably sleep for a while. You'll feel better afterwards," explained Ginny.

Ron smiled ruefully and murmured something incoherent before closing his eyes.

xxx

Hermione sat outside Ron's door, her knees drawn to her chest. She dropped her head into her hands and finally released all her pent up emotions. Her shoulders shook with sobs. How could Ron do this? He had been so reckless and almost gotten himself killed.

What was worse, he had refused to let her help. He trusted Luna over her! Though she knew that truthfully, he was just protecting her, it still stung—badly. And she had landed them in the forest in the midst of an Acromantula den. Ron's arachnophobia had only worsened his condition.

Hermione laughed bitterly through her sobs. The whole Snape-rescue escapade aside, Hermione was still sore from Ron's aloofness towards her after that night they spent together.

She understood what the prissy portrait was trying to say—Hermione had to realize that Ron didn't change because he grew up but because the things he experienced and dealt with in her absence.

But how was she supposed to understand Ron if he refused to let her in? Every time she thought that she finally broke through his wall, he quickly built it up again and left her in the cold.

The sound of hurried footfalls coming up the staircase pulled her out of her thoughts.

"Where is he?" demanded a pale-faced Harry as he made his way up the final two steps.

"Harry," said Hermione, suddenly feeling guilty for forgetting to contact him. "He's inside, sleeping."

"Is he…is he going to be all right?"

"Yeah, he's going to fine," she said softly.

Harry heaved a sigh of relief and sat down beside Hermione.

"How'd you find out?" asked Hermione.

"McGonagall called the Order headquarters. I went to Willsworthy immediately but all I found was a dead Death Eater. Luna had already disappeared with the other two to the Ministry by then."

Hermione closed her eyes. She'd nearly forgotten about the dead man.

Harry watched Hermione carefully. "He's a right git," he said, finally.

Hermione snorted in a fashion that would have disgusted that portrait. "That's rich, coming from you Harry. Now I have to worry about the both of you."

"All right, so maybe I might have done something similar but still."

"Oh Harry, I don't…I don't know what to do," she said, abruptly, as tears spilled over the brim of her eyes again. "I just…"

Harry shifted uncomfortably before cautiously putting his arm around her shoulders and pulling her towards him. Hermione allowed her head to fall into Harry's shoulder while she cried softly.

"He was so…so…hurt…the blood…I couldn't think," she sobbed.

Harry squeezed her shoulders gently.

"It's not right; I shouldn't freeze up like that. He could have died!"

"But he didn't. You obviously got yourself together in time," said Harry, soothingly.

Hermione shook her head. "And he…he didn't even let me know where he was…it isn't fair."

"Well, we're both guilty of that. I wouldn't get you or Ginny involved if I could avoid it."

"That's so sexist, Harry! Both…Ginny and I…are capable..."

"It has nothing to do with you being girls. I wouldn't want Ron involved if I didn't have to either. You lot are just too stubborn for your own good."

"We're not letting you go it alone, Harry."

"I know," he whispered.

Hermione sighed. "I can understand you, Harry, at least for the most part. But Ron…"

"Well," he muttered. "Ginny can be a mystery to me at times." He was blushing slightly. "I guess things are always more complicated when it comes to _that_ person, you know?"

"I guess," Hermione mumbled.

"And a blazing war doesn't make it any easier."

Hermione laughed hoarsely. "Definitely not."

xxx

Ron sat up in his bed, not quite remembering exactly what had transpired before he had fallen asleep. He could feel a dull pain in his chest and his head ached faintly but other than that, he felt all right.

He swung his legs over the bed and instantly felt dizzy as he stood up. Bracing himself against the wall, he took a deep breath and headed for the common room.

Slowly, flashes of memories resurfaced. Pain and nausea. Disgusting lips pressed against his ear, whispering something about taking him to the Dark Lord and him being Harry best friend. How did he know his name?

A sharp blade cutting through his skin. His hand shot up to his neck and he felt thick gauze plastered over the wound. Hermione holding her wand to the man's throat. Hermione! How had she even found him? McGonagall wouldn't have told her.

He closed his eyes as he held onto the railing on the way down the staircase. The forest. Massive spiders. He shivered. His bedroom. Pain. Merlin, he'd never felt anything like it. Hermione. Something about Viktor Krum. He frowned. Why were they talking about that bloody git? Convulsions. Ginny. A potion. And then sleep.

By the time he made it to the common room, he could see Hermione hunched over a massive book. She was writing frantically and flipping the pages almost recklessly as she chewed on the end of her quill.

"Hermione."

Hermione head snapped upwards and she was instantly at her feet and striding over to Ron.

"Ron, you should be in bed," she chided as she wrapped her arms around Ron gently.

"I feel fine."

"Really?"

"Really, Hermione."

Hermione looked at him darkly. "If that's the case…what in Merlin's name is wrong with you?" she yelled.

"Blimey, Hermione. I just got up. Give a bloke a break."

She shook her head. "I've been patient, Ron but if you're feeling fine now, as you seem to insist, then you'll have to answer to me!"

Ron cringed slightly and fell into the couch, his headache suddenly feeling more prominent.

Hermione's back was to Ron when she started her tirade. "How dare you go gallivanting across England on some half-baked rescue mission and leave me in the dark!"

"Hermione, please…"

"Oh, don't give me your excuses, Ronald Weasley," she shot back as she spun around and pointed an accusatory finger at him. "You nearly _died_, Ron! Don't you get it, I nearly lost you again!" Her voice was shaking now.

"Again?"

"Every time I decide that I'm furious with you, you go and get yourself poisoned and then I'm too relieved that you're all right to remain mad. Don't think I haven't forgotten about the whole Lavender debacle."

Ron smiled despite himself. "I guess I know how to win you back from now on."

"Oh, that's not funny!"

Ron shrugged his shoulders. "I reckon I'm a bit rusty."

Hermione let out an exasperated sigh. "You're impossible," she muttered as she flopped into the couch beside him.

They sat in silence for a few minutes before Hermione spoke.

"And then you have the nerve to send a patronus to the castle who refuses to relay your message to me!"

"Hermione, I didn't—."

"It spoke to Luna," she said in a softer, wounded voice.

Ron looked surprised. "It wasn't supposed to. I told my patronus to tell McGonagall, that's it. I wouldn't want to put Luna in danger because of my recklessness."

"A patronus is linked to a person both physically and subconsciously. It disintegrates if their owner dies. If you are alive, it knows where to find you. Your subconscious has as much of a control over it as your explicit instructions. So why, Ron, are you subconsciously willing to let Luna know where you are and not me?"

Ron sighed deeply. "I don't know Hermione. Maybe it's because she was my partner in the whole half-baked mission, as you call it and it was only natural to contact her."

"But why wouldn't you tell me?"

"Because Hermione…"

"Do you think I can't take care of myself?" Hermione demanded angrily.

"Merlin, no!" exclaimed Ron, wondering how she could possibly come to that conclusion. Hermione was an amazing duelist—maybe not as good as Harry was, but much better than him at any rate. "I know you can. I wouldn't stand a chance against you. But it was too dangerous."

"You make no sense," retorted Hermione. "First I'm perfectly capable and the next minute, it's too dangerous for poor ickle Hermione to handle! Just in case you've forgotten, YOU ALMOST DIED!"

Ron looked away from her and fixed his eyes on folds of the plush red curtains draped over the windows. "Don't you see, Hermione," he snapped, angrily. "You are too important to this bloody war?"

"I don't know what you're talking about, Ron."

"Without that antidote you're working on," he said, pointing at the massive potions book open on the table. "There's no point in even fighting this war. It's you that they need, not me. And Ginny…she can whip up a potion in record time…people like you and her and Harry, you can't just walk into unnecessary danger when someone like me can do it, it's irresponsible!"

Hermione just gaped at Ron. Ron refused to look at her.

"What do you mean, '_someone like me_'?" she asked in a voice so deadly that Ron actually shivered.

"Someone replaceable," he stated with an even voice. "There's a reason you're creating that antidote, Hermione. There's a reason Harry's expected to kill Voldemort. The only reason I'm overseeing this school is because the obvious choices are unavailable. If I'm not there, someone else can take my place and I reckon the school would be better for it."

He paused and turned his head towards her. "You shouldn't have come for me."

"You ungrateful prat," yelled Hermione. "It I hadn't come, you would have been taken away and who knows what they would have done to you!" She shuddered involuntarily.

"HAVEN'T YOU HEARD A WORD I SAID?" Ron had jumped out of the couch and started pacing up and down the length of the room. "What if something happened to you? We have no idea how long it will be 'til people start dying of this blasted virus. If you were gone…who knows how long it would be before somebody discovered an antidote. Most of the great minds are lying in sickbeds!"

"You're absolutely delusional," screamed Hermione as her eyes followed him. "STOP PACING!"

Ron halted to a stop and glared at her.

"I guess some things don't change," she muttered.

"What do you mean?"

"This dense perception you have of being irrelevant, it's rock solid, isn't it?"

She walked over to Ron and slipped her hands into his. "What is it about you? Why do you abuse yourself so much?"

"You don't know what you're talking about," he said through clenched teeth. "I'm just stating the facts."

"No you're not, Ron. McGonagall has to leave tomorrow. Nobody in this castle, including myself is capable of supervising this hospital. Truth be told, even McGonagall wouldn't be able to hold down the fort for long. Nobody understands your system like you do. What is the point in discovering an antidote or even defeating Voldemort if there's nobody to greet that victory?"

Ron pulled his hands away and shook his head.

"You ensure their survival, Ron. And you cannot be replaced, not in this war…and…not in my life," she whispered. "If he had taken you…killed you…I—I would be lost."

Ron cupped Hermione's right cheek with his hand and brushed a tear away with his thumb. "If something had happened to you…" He closed is eyes, unwilling to think of the shell of a person he would become. "I…I know what it's like to go on in this world without you and well, look at me, I'm an utter mess of a person."

Hermione leaned into his touch. "Not a mess, just different. I get that now or at least I'm starting to get it."

"And you still fancy me?"

Hermione placed her head against his chest gently. "We're passed fancying each other, don't you think…I mean, the other night…" Her voice trailed off.

Hermione moved away as Ron's body tensed. "Was it so terrible?" she whispered, her eyes downcast.

"Hermione, no," exclaimed Ron, horrified as he looked down at his hands to hide his burning face. "I never felt so…I don't know how to describe it…I can't…but it was a good feeling," he finished lamely.

Hermione sat down on the couch again, carefully hiding her own flushed cheeks.

"What about you…I mean…uh, did you…was I…?" He felt mortified. He couldn't believe he was having this conversation.

"I felt the same, Ron. I just…afterwards, you were so distant…I didn't know what to think." Her voice was barely a whisper.

Ron sighed and scooted in beside her.

"I suck at this you know…this whole talking business."

Hermione finally looked up. "Try, please."

Ron nodded. "It's just…everything was so rushed…and a part of me, a part of me loved it…I mean what bloke doesn't…" He left the sentence hanging as Hermione looked at him warningly.

"I'm just trying to be honest," he mumbled.

Hermione nodded. "What about the other part?"

"I was confused. I didn't understand your motivation, Hermione, I'm sorry…but we barely hugged each other for years and suddenly you're telling me you love me and getting so intimate…and…and…I wasn't sure it was real."

Hermione shook her head and opened her mouth but Ron placed his finger against her lips. "If I don't get it out now, I'll never get it out."

Hermione snapped her mouth closed.

"I thought that maybe you were in love with the Ron you remembered from school…and I don't…I don't feel like that boy, Hermione. I can't, not after everything. I want to…but…I can't. And when you said you loved me, I knew you were in love with him and not me and then none of it could be real, could it? Not if you didn't even know who you were saying 'I love you' too."

Hermione's face had gone ghastly pale.

A part of Ron felt like he was outside his own body, watching in horror as he spilled his deepest and most confused thoughts to the one person he was so desperate to hide them from. But he couldn't bear to cause her any more pain. And if baring his soul was the only way to do that, that's what he had to do.

"I don't…I don't even feel all there sometimes…I know I've gone nutters…I can't see how you could even love this person I've become. I'm an absolute mess and you deserve better than that. It's pathetic really."

"Ron—"

"And then that night, I'd just told you about Damien and…that I loved you, which is true but like I said, I wasn't sure if you loved _me _or if you even should…but then we…we…I couldn't help but think that it was…"

Something in Ron was screaming at him, telling his to shut it right then before he said too much.

"That it was pity sex," he mumbled, his eyes downcast as his cheeks burned with shame.

Hermione gasped and Ron flinched. He couldn't bring himself to look at her face.

"How…how could you even think that?" cried Hermione shrilly. "It's not true, never, God, Ron, it was my first time…you think I'd throw that away on _pity_?"

"I don't know what to think. We only started hugging and such and then all of a sudden, we were snogging in my bed. I'd just told you some of my deepest and darkest secrets and I was this pathetic teary mess…blokes aren't supposed to breakdown like that, are they? Harry wouldn't…"

"Don't compare yourself to Harry."

"He's my best mate, Hermione and he's been through a lot worse than I have but I'm the one who can't hold it together in front of the girl I love."

"You shouldn't have to," exclaimed Hermione.

He finally looked at her. "Look at you, look at how I make you feel…you're practically in tears…even in school, I made you cry…why do you want to be with someone who makes you feel like this?"

"Oh Ron, don't you see, I love you, you make me cry _because_ I love you and I can't stand to hear you think of yourself or us like this."

Ron shook his head sadly. "But do you even know me? Is it me you love or is it who you think I am that you love?"

"I love _you_, Ron, what more can I say? I want to get to know the parts of you that I don't already know but I don't need to know the details to know that I love you."

"How can it be that simple? I want to make this right, I want it so badly…but I don't know how and I don't know why I'm making this so hard."

Hermione looked at him desperately.

"I'm so sorry Hermione."

* * *

**A/N: **Well, this is the longest chapter yet! Over 5000 words. I hope that didn't take away from the chapter. This chapter was very hard to write. It's got so many sentimental and emotional elements involved that I don't know how it will be received. I would truly appreciate some feedback on this chapter.

I know the chapter seems to end with the two not resolving much but I think that despite that, Ron's got really far by letting her in a bit. Ron's an extremely emotional and unstable character in my story—I don't think that's how I started out with this story but sometimes the characters do the writing, I guess. The poor guy could do with some decent therapy but of course with a war and all, he'll have to figure it out on his own.

Don't worry, Harry's still in the castle and will pop up in the next chapter, as will Snape (though unconscious).

Let me know what you think.

**To my anonymous reviewer:**

**Ash: **Good thing Ron's not real ;). I agree—I would never want to be in the path of an angry Hermione or Ginny! Thanks for the great review!


	18. Perilous Protection

**Disclaimer:** I don't own anything that JKR created.

Thank to all my lovely reviewers! You know how much I appreciate you!

**Chapter 17**

**Perilous Protection**

Hermione felt slightly numb as hot tears spilled down her cheeks. She knew there was nothing she could say that would rectify the situation. There was no easy fix. She cringed. I'm not trying to _fix_ him, she inwardly scolded.

She hadn't realized how bad things had gotten for Ron. During the Horcrux hunt, they had all been badly injured and barely escaped death on many occasions but Ron had always remained light-hearted. One month had changed everything.

Before Hermione could dwell further into her thoughts, Ron broke the silence that had fallen over them.

He raised his thumb to her cheek and brushed some tears away from her face. "Don't cry, please, I'm always mak—."

Hermione lifted her index finger to his lips and made a soft "shh" sound. "You don't have to apologize for anything Ron. You have no idea where to go from here and neither do I. I care for you deeply, Ron." She refrained from saying 'love'. There was no point in saying it until he was ready to believe it.

"So, we'll just have to go on with life and have faith that we'll figure it out eventually," she continued convincingly, even as a sense of dread overcame her.

Ron snorted. "What life?"

Hermione gave him a little half-smile. "You know what I mean."

Ron nodded. "You're going back to the dungeon and I'm going back to this," he said waving his hand about the room. "Where have you left Snape?"

"McGonagall settled him into his old bedchamber."

"The dungeon?"

Hermione shook her head. "The quarters off the DADA classroom."

"I nearly forgot that he taught Defense," muttered Ron as he stood up.

xxx

Ron's head was throbbing with pain as he made his way down to the Defense Against Dark Arts classroom. He flicked his wand, summoning a vial of painkilling potion. He could barely believe that he'd told Hermione all those things—thoughts that he didn't even fully understand.

He tried to push the whole conversation to the back of his mind as he reached the entrance of the DADA private quarters. If he didn't think about it, he didn't have to deal with it.

He passed through an office and a sitting area before he reached the bedroom.

Professor McGonagall was sitting in a winged back chair, her head titled back slightly, her eyes closed and her spectacles clenched in her hand. A few feet away, Snape lay, unconscious and buried beneath layers of sheets and a thick duvet.

"Professor?" said Ron, surprised to see her in the room.

The elderly woman jerked slightly as her eyes fluttered open. She quickly slipped her specs on and blinked her eyes as she looked at her former student. "Mr. Weasley, you startled me."

"Sorry."

"I'm pleased to see that you haven't sustained any permanent damage."

Ron nodded.

McGonagall frowned slightly as she glanced back at her younger colleague. "I was just staying with Professor Snape for a spell and must have dozed off."

"How is he?"

The professor shook her head and she suddenly looked regretful at the dark haired man. "I don't know how matters got so horribly out of control for him. I failed him as his teacher and now, I've failed him as a colleague."

Ron shifted uncomfortably. He didn't think that she realized that she was saying this in front of him.

"I should have trusted you because Albus did, Severus."

"It's what he wanted us all to think, Professor," reasoned Ron.

McGonagall's eyes snapped to Ron. "Dear me," she muttered as she realized that Ron was still in the room. "He's not well. What you did for him back at the muggle town has kept him alive, though. I've done what I can but healing has never been my strength

Ron moved into the room to examine the injured man.

McGonagall stood up and stepped over to the bed. "I've healed most of his broken bones but these," she said, gesturing to both his hands. "It's like there are millions of bone fragments inside. They're impossible to fix."

Ron frowned as he touched the man's hands. He quickly withdrew them as he felt the tiny pieces of bones under the skin.

"He's always treasured those hands," said McGonagall in a slightly choked voice.

Ron furrowed his brow, as a thought seemed to nudge at his mind. Why was he suddenly reminded of one of Harry's Quidditch games?

Suddenly it hit him like a rogue bludger. Ron couldn't help but smirk at the irony.

"It's not a lost cause, Professor," assured Ron.

"I know you've become an excellent healer with no training whatsoever but you cannot believe that you can mend these bones," said McGonagall, raising an eyebrow.

Ron shook his hand. "No those bones are absolutely useless now."

"Then?"

"I'll remove the bones and re-grow them with Skele-Gro. It'll hurt like shit but that's only if he comes about while the potion is working and I reckon he'll think it's worth it."

The woman seemed too elated to reproach him for his foul language. "An excellent plan, Mr. Weasley!"

"Don't thank me, thank Lockhart for that one."

After McGonagall left, Ron tapped his wand on a nearby dresser and summoned a tray of potions to that spot.

He was unbuttoning the former professor's nightshirt when he heard the door creaking open from behind him. He spun around quickly.

"Just me, mate," greeted Harry as he stepped into the room.

"Harry," exclaimed Ron. "What are you doing here?"

"Hermione didn't tell you? I came to see if your sorry arse was all right."

Ron gave him an apologetic look. "I'm fine."

Harry looked at him doubtfully before his eyes landed on the professor. "Never thought I'd live to see the day you undress Snape."

"Oh, very funny, Harry."

"So the bastard's going to live?"

"I won't be sure for another few days. Malfoy seems to have pulled through but Snape's been subjected to hell of a lot more abuse."

"Dumbledore's would-be-murderer and murderer back under Hogwarts' roof," he muttered, angrily.

"Come on, mate, I'd be the last person to believe that I'd ever feel anything but hatred for him but I guess I was wrong."

Harry shrugged his shoulders as he flopped into the recently vacated chair. "Well, I'm not you. I'll accept that he's working for our side but that's it."

Ron sighed. A month ago, Ron would have felt the same way. In fact, he probably would have thought Snape was still a traitor. If he'd gone back in time and told his younger self that he'd risked his own life to save Snape's life, his old self would have laughed in his face and said, "Good one." But now, he couldn't help but feel sorry for the man and even the inklings of admiration for his selflessness and bravery. He no longer saw everything through black and white lenses.

Harry leaned forward in the chair as Ron started uncorking potions and waving his wand over the unconscious man. "So, are you really all right, Ron?"

"Perfectly fine, Harry, as good as new."

Harry frowned. "I just saw Hermione."

Ron's body tensed. He kept his eyes trained on the task. "What did she say?" he asked, dreading the answer.

"Nothing much," said Harry quickly. Ron wondered if he was lying. "It's just, she was sort of upset, I mean, not crying or anything but just upset. You two in a fight?"

"No," Ron mumbled before he removed the bones from Snape's hands.

"Then?" prompted Harry.

"When did you become so concerned with the two of us?" grumbled Ron.

"When have I not been concerned about you or Hermione?" said Harry, feigning offence.

"That's not what I mean, I mean, why the sudden interest in _us_ as a pair?"

"I've put up with your spats for seven years, pardon me if I'm getting tired of it," he said goodheartedly.

"We're not in a spat," insisted Ron. Ron wondered if a row would have been better than spilling his guts out to her.

"But something's wrong, right?"

Ron sighed. "I don't think we're an '_us_' anymore…shortest relationship ever." He continued to concentrate on Snape instead of dwell deeper into his thoughts.

"But you two…I mean you …well…you know…"

"Don't even say it, Harry."

Ron looked over his shoulder at Harry. He looked aghast. "Does she think you rushed her? _Did_ _you rush her_?"

Ron groaned. Perfect time to go all brotherly on her, he thought.

"Of course I didn't!" He wasn't going to admit that maybe she rushed him. No bloke was ever going to admit that to his best mate. He couldn't believe he was admitting it to himself.

"Then why did she break it off?"

"Who said she broke it off?"

"You did?" asked Harry, surprised.

Ron shook his head. "We didn't really break it off…we just…I don't know," he said, frustrated. Ron really didn't want to discuss his problems with Harry. Harry had his own problems to deal with and Ron wasn't going to add to the list.

"Well, it's not really over, I reckon," said Harry, thoughtfully. "Just on hold."

"How do reckon that?" mumbled Ron as he forced a fever-reducing potion down Snape's throat. Unless he was going to revert to his old self, he didn't see how things would get back to normal.

Harry shrugged. "It's been a long time coming, I didn't like it at the beginning…told myself that it was my imagination but soon it was just too obvious."

"What do you mean, 'you didn't like it'?"

Harry shook his head, trying to brush it aside. "Nothing."

"No Harry, what are you talking about?"

Harry groaned, obviously regretting where the conversation had gone. "I figured things would be different between the three of us afterwards. They were bad enough with your mouth permanently stuck to Lavender's."

"Nothing changes, Harry," Ron said firmly. "You're as important to me as she is." Ron's cheeks felt warm. Why was he suddenly so honest about his feelings with his friends?

"I know," mumbled Harry.

Suddenly, Snape's body started convulsing.

"Gah," muttered Ron as a potion spilled over his hand. "Harry, can you get over here and hold him down."

Harry walked over and looked down at the shuddering man, reluctantly.

"Can't you use magic or something?"

"Harry, shut it and hold his shoulders down."

Harry frowned as he pushed his palms against his hated professor's bare shoulders.

"Can't use unnecessary magic, seems to be aggravating him…must be a spell they used. Makes it harder to heal him. And he's got a lot more of that poison in him than I did. He's going to need more of this antidote."

Harry noticed Snape's limp fingers. "What happened to his hands?"

"I took the bones out. Growing them back with Skele-Gro."

Harry winced. "That'll hurt."

"I think he's felt worse."

Soon Harry was back in the winged back chair, obviously happy to be away from his former professor.

"So, you seen Ginny yet?" asked Ron, wanting to change the subject.

"Yeah, just for a bit. Had to listen to her rant on about you. She isn't very happy right now. Figures you were being stupid."

"What do you think?" asked Ron. After all, Harry was a prime example of rash actions.

"I think you're a right git for risking your life for him."

He saved our lives first, thought Ron. But he didn't mention that to Harry. He knew Harry was well aware of the circumstances surrounding Snape. Harry wasn't as heartless as he was trying to appear. Ron understood that he needed to keep that façade in place.

He appealed to Snape's role in the War instead. "Have you any leads on the last Horcrux?"

"No," mumbled Harry.

"See," Ron said, gesturing to Snape. "He's our best lead."

"If he ever gets up."

"Actually, he's probably going to come in and out of consciousness for the next few hours. Some of the stuff I've forced down his throat are bound to pull him out of this, if only for a bit. And if all goes well, he'll be talking by tomorrow."

"Seriously?"

"Yeah, but he won't be out of this bed for quite some time."

"I only need him to talk," said Harry.

Ron decided to change the subject again. Snape was shaping into an irritable subject for Harry.

"What have you been doing with Remus? How are things out there?"

Harry sighed. "I spent some time interrogating the Death Eaters we captured during the attack on the Ministry. They turned out to be useless…just pawns, you know?"

"Yeah."

"A part of London was attacked yesterday but we were able to diffuse the situation before it got out of hand. That meant more useless Death Eaters to interrogate…but nothing to lead us to another Horcrux."

Ron could hear the frustration in Harry's voice. Harry just banged his head against the back of the chair.

"Oh, I nearly forgot, Remus's bringing more patients tomorrow."

Ron groaned. "Great. We'll have to start using the sleeping bags or transfigure things into beds at this rate."

"You've left quite an impression with the Order and the Ministry, actually," said Harry. "Seems to think you can handle anything. Remus says that everyone was amazed at how you handled the Hogsmeade attack. Hogwarts just seemed like the best place to send the sick or injured after what happened to St. Mungo's"

"Well, don't I feel special," Ron muttered sarcastically, though, deep down, it felt foreign yet almost pleasant to be recognized like that.

He looked down at his patient, feeling a bit tired. He had never worked on someone with such horrendous injuries—external, internal and magical.

"Okay Harry, I've got to go check on Malfoy and see how the rest of the castle is holding up. Can you stay here with him? He needs to take this potion in fifteen minutes." He held up a small vial to Harry. "I'll be back."

Harry groaned but agreed, albeit reluctantly.

xxx

Harry was sitting silently, staring at his former professor, with a scowl plastered on his face. Why was he feeling sympathy for the bastard?

He was grumbling under his breath when the older man stirred slightly in the bed and started coughing.

Harry jumped to his feet.

"Pot…" he started before he was gripped by an onslaught of coughs. "King…"

Harry was hastily trying to uncork the potion Ron had left for him. "King?"

"24..."

"What?"

"Hor…"

"Horcrux?" exclaimed Harry.

Snape nodded before grimacing in pain.

"King? Horcrux? 24? What the hell are you trying to say?"

xxx

Ron entered the room to see Harry kneeling at the bedside, staring at the unconscious man.

"You all right, mate?"

Harry's head jerked upwards. "Yeah, fine. I've got to go."

"Go? Already?" Ron said, disappointed.

Harry got up and nodded. "I've got to get back to the Order. Just remembered something."

"What?" said Ron, suspiciously. He looked over at Snape. Saliva and blood marred the corner of his mouth. "Did he wake up or something?" he asked as he preformed a cleaning spell.

Harry shook his head. "Is my invisibility cloak in the dormitory?"

Ron narrowed his eyes. "It's in a racksack by my bed."

"Right."

"Harry, what's going on? Please tell me."

"Nothing, all right, I just have to leave," he snapped angrily.

Ron was not convinced. "Harry…"

Harry ignored him and headed for the door.

"Harry, just wait."

Harry growled at Ron. "I don't have time for this."

Ron picked up a cork-stopper and turned it into a portkey.

"Take this. If anything happens, use it to come back here."

xxx

Ron slumped into the twice-vacated chair, feeling knackered and frustrated. He didn't believe Harry when he said that Snape hadn't woken up. It was the only explanation for Harry's abrupt departure. Snape must have told Harry something about the last Horcrux while Ron was out of the room.

But he had no idea where Harry was going and it was driving him mad with worry. He realized that Hermione must have felt the exact same way when he disappeared from the castle.

He summoned a copy of the master schedule for the castle staff and started reorganizing the schedule. Somebody had to remain by Snape's side at all times in case he woke up. Snape would know where Harry had gone.

Somebody knocked on the door as he used his wand to rearrange the schedule.

"Ron, open the door, my hands are full," came Hermione's voice from the other side of the door.

Ron quickly flicked his wand and the door flew open, banging loudly against the wall.

He gave Hermione an apologetic look as she flinched slightly at the noise. "Sorry, didn't mean to slam it."

Hermione came into the room, her bag slung over her shoulder. She had a platter of sandwiches in one hand and a tray of three drinks in the other hand, obviously balanced with magic. She smiled nervously at Ron.

Ron jumped out of his seat and cleared away a spot on the dresser for the food. "What's all this?" asked Ron as he eyed the sandwiches, his stomach growling.

"Where's Harry? I saw both of you here on the map a half-hour ago and thought I'd bring us some food. The three of us haven't spent time together in so long."

"He's gone," said Ron angrily.

"What? But he just got here!"

"I know. I'd left him with Snape for a few minutes and by the time I came back he was in a hurry to leave."

"Did he say where too?"

"No. I asked him if Snape said anything to him but he denied it." Ron grabbed a turkey and cheese sandwich and bit into it violently.

"You believe him?"

"No."

Hermione fell into the chair and sighed heavily. "You see what I have to deal with? Two hotheaded prats."

Ron gave her another apologetic look as a tense silence fell between them.

The awkwardness between them seemed nonexistent as they worried about Harry. It seemed like they had come to a mutual agreement to take things slowly between them. After all, they couldn't jeopardize Harry's safety or the War efforts because he was too preoccupied with working out the battle he seemed to wage with himself.

"I'm worried, Hermione," Ron finally said as he grabbed another sandwich and sat on the floor beside the chair.

Hermione bit her lip as she looked apprehensively at him. "Ron, I have a plan."

"A plan? For what?" he asked with his mouth full.

"If Harry's gone after the last Horcrux, it's only a matter of time before Harry goes after Voldemort."

Ron felt his head throb as he thought about Harry's pending destiny.

"I don't think Voldemort knows that nearly all his Horcruxes have been destroyed but he knows Nagini is dead."

Ron nodded. Using Hermione's incredible transfiguration skills, they'd left replacements at every Horcrux site, much like the fake locket Harry and Dumbledore found at the end of their sixth year.

When Snape had finally blown his cover to protect the trio, Hermione was convinced that Voldemort was oblivious to any prior communication between the double agent and Harry, Ron and Hermione. Thus, he could go on believing that his soul infused relics were safe.

But now that Snape was with them, Voldemort would start getting nervous.

"I've been doing a lot of research on souls…" continued Hermione before she nibbled on her sandwich.

"Wait, I thought there was no information on Horcruxes. That's why Harry had to collect that memory from Slughorn."

"There isn't anything on making Horcruxes but there is information on souls and soul fragments. According to my research, a person experiences severe weakness after losing a piece of their soul."

"So that's why he doesn't go about making dozens of them."

"Exactly," said Hermione. "This means there's only a small window of opportunity here. Harry has to kill Voldemort after destroying the last Horcrux but before he makes another one. It could be any day now and we can't let Harry go blindly into this. We need a plan."

"And you have a plan?" asked Ron.

Hermione nodded slowly. "But it's dangerous."

Ron gulped before saying, "If it helps Harry, we have to consider it."

Hermione smiled softly. "I knew you'd agree with me."

"So what is it, then?"

"Remember when we came back to Hogwarts to research a spell to extract the soul fragment from Hufflepuff's cup a few months ago."

Ron nodded.

"Well, I came across a book in the restricted section. I didn't give it much thought then but while I waited for the antidote to brew I went back and found the book."

Ron nodded his head impatiently.

Hermione pulled out a small, tattered book from her bag and handed it to Ron.

"It's not in English," he muttered as he stared down at the foreign words.

"It's Latin for _Advanced Protective Magic_," explained Hermione. She bounced slightly in her chair much like she did when she was explaining a particularly clever concept to Harry or Ron.

"Didn't know you knew Latin." Ron started flipping through the book. Everything was in Latin

"I don't, well, I know a bit but I've been using a translation spell for the most part. Unfortunately, some things are getting lost in translation…it's like figuring out a riddle."

"Well, we all know you're good at that," said Ron absently, remembering the riddle she decoded for Harry and herself in their first year.

Hermione smiled before leaning forward and flipping through the book in Ron's hand. "The spell Dumbledore used to protect Harry at the Dursleys is in here." She stopped at a page and pointed. "Sacrificial Protection of Blood."

Ron frowned. Neither of them were Harry's blood relatives and he'd hope for a less permanent solution than death.

"Harry's mum's sacrifice protected Harry from Quirrell in first year but after what happened in forth year, the protection was broken."

"Right," Ron said slowly, trying to figure out where Hermione was going with this.

"Harry needs some form of protection if he's going to face him so that he can concentrate on attacking Voldemort and not defending himself."

"We'll be with him Hermione. He's not going to be alone in this," he said fiercely. Ron had promised to be with Harry through everything and he planned to keep that promise.

Hermione shook her head. "If we're there, Voldemort could use us against Harry. We could be distractions."

Ron gapped at her. "Hermione, we can't desert him like that!"

"We're not deserting him, Ron," she said indignantly.

"Then?" he snapped.

"There's a spell in here…well actually, a potion and an incantation to activate and deactivate a shield. It's risky, Ron, but if it works, Harry doesn't have to worry about defending himself. He won't get anywhere if he's constantly fighting off Voldemort's attacks with _Protego_."

Ron gulped. "So, you've found a permanent shield spell that Harry can use?

She inhaled some air. "Something like that. It's only broken if the caster says the incantation again or…if he dies."

Ron narrowed his eyes. "Who casts the spell? Harry? Because that makes no sense. If he could die, what's the point in the spell?"

"Harry doesn't cast the spell. Someone who loves Harry must cast it. Like Harry's original protection. It was powerful because of Lily Potter's love."

Ron traced his fingers along the edge of the book as he stared at her. "Hermione, just tell me everything, all right?"

Hermione nodded. "It's ancient magic. _Averto Ingruo Contego_. I have to make a potion that we have to drink. It's complicated but I know I can make it. Then when the time comes, we say the incantation. An invisible shield will surround Harry and any magical attacks will not reach him."

Ron gaped at her. It seemed too good to be true but she had said that it was risky. "What's the catch, Hermione?"

Hermione looked nervously at Ron. "The attacks are redirected…to the casters."

A heavy silence draped over the two friends as Ron processed Hermione's words. Calling the spell 'risky' was like calling Grawp big when he was actually gigantic. But Ron knew he would do anything for Harry.

"What do you mean by 'caster_s_'? Can't one person cast it?" asked Ron.

Hermione let out an exasperated sigh of frustration. "I am not letting you do this spell on your own, Ronald Weasley! I'm the one who's making the potions, so it's either both of us or just me. Take your pick."

Ron knew he couldn't convince her otherwise. Still, it made him nauseous to think of Hermione in that much danger even though he knew that he didn't have the right to prevent her from protecting her best friend.

"Besides," she continued softly. "The shield is less likely to break if there are two casters."

Ron closed his eyes, understanding the implication of Hermione's statement but refusing to acknowledge it.

"How will it work? Will the spells duplicate and attack us separately?"

Hermione shook her head. "We won't know until it happens, Ron. Some spells might duplicate, others might split its intensity between the two of us and others might just attack you or me."

Ron slipped his hand into hers and squeezed it reassuringly.

She looked down at him, her eyes glistening. "We've got to stay away from Harry when he finally faces him."

Ron nodded to show his understanding. If they were with Harry, both Harry and Voldemort would realize that Ron and Hermione were at the receiving end of Voldemort's attacks. Voldemort could easily use that to his advantage.

"I've been working on a spell in order to see what Harry sees when we activate the shield. If muggles can do it with cameras, I know I can do it. That way we'll know what we're being attacked with. We just have…we just have to brush up on…our defensive magic, that's all." Her voice trembled slightly.

Ron was amazed at the amount to things Hermione could do in such a short time—work on an antidote, decode a Latin book and create a spy spell.

"Do you think it's absolutely insane, Ron?" she murmured.

Ron squeezed her hand again, knowing that they were embarking on a suicide mission but still hoping that they would survive. "It's a brilliant plan, Hermione," he whispered.

Hermione gave him a small smile. "We'll take care of the defense and Harry can concentrate on the offense."

Ron let out a quiet chuckle as he covered up his own apprehension. "You sound like you're getting ready for a Quidditch game, Hermione."

"It was bound to rub off at some point."

Ron leaned his head against the side of Hermione's chair. Her hand hovered tentatively as it grazed over Ron's hair. She hesitated for a moment before settling her hand into his hair.

Ron closed his eyes and allowed the brief moment of contentment to engulf his worry and anxiety. He silently hoped that they would survive to see Harry victorious. Maybe with the war behind them, Harry could finally live the life he deserved and Ron could finally learn to live with himself.

* * *

**A/N:** Harry will be back in the next chapter.

So this was a major contrast from the last chapter. This chapter was incredibly hard to write. I must have rewritten it three times and I'm still not entirely satisfied but I've got to stop rewriting at some point. In the previous version of the story, the way Voldemort was defeated is painfully laughable and I've had a hard time working out a plan for this version of the story. I had to get Hermione's plan out in the open.

There's more involved than what was said but for now, I hope everything makes sense. Things are not going to be easy for Harry when he finally faces Voldemort just because Ron and Hermione are taking care of the defense. They're just taking away one part of the equation for Harry. Some of you might wonder where Ginny is in this whole plan. I'll address that later.

As for the last Horcrux, I've given a hint to what it is in this chapter. You won't believe how long it took me to come up with it. I don't know if it's already been used (I have not yet read far enough into the long, Horcrux fics that I'm reading to know what other writers have used) but hopefully it's not too overused.

I hope that I was able to keep the undertones of Ron's struggle while focusing on the War efforts in this chapter. I didn't plan for this story to be so involved with the actually war and Voldemort's defeat but it's impossible to have the emotional side without the War side.

Let me know what you think.

Weasleygirl-ca.

**To my anonymous reviewers:**

**a fan of your fic**: Thanks so much for the kind review!

**random**: I love sweet Ron too (and confused Ron, lol). I'll try to be good with my updates :D. Thanks for the wonderful review.

**Miarae**: I'm so glad you think that. It's really hard to let a character evolve and still keep him somewhat in character. Thank you so much for the amazing review!


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